Bring Heaven to Its Knees
by Shadow of the Fire Bird
Summary: Sebastian had promised Ciel through their Contract that he will follow whatever order his master gives him, but when someone of a higher authority than him comes to London in search of something dangerous, Sebastian's put in a difficult position. He's already pissed off the Demon Lord once and now his head General has arrived in his midst to make trouble for both him and Ciel.
1. Prologue: Hellfire

Prologue: Hellfire

* * *

I hum a little song to myself as I walk the rainy streets: a song of ancient blood, of murder, and of sin; the darkness hears it, listens, and responds. The shadows sweep across my ethereal form as I waver, crouched in the shadows of an overhanging roof. I watch the woman of the hour; her figure bathed in red as she bids farewell to her gentleman caller, who vanishes into the night. There's a smile on her mouth, but it's a Cheshire cat grin: it only covers half her face, not reaching her eyes.

Her eyes are flat and empty, telling nothing of her soul: desires long since forgotten. I laugh to myself, my white teeth gleaming like starlight in the darkness.

There is a sin upon her form, a blackened stain like ink. But she only turned to prowling the East End streets by night in order to feed her ailing son. Such is the purity of a mother's love putrefied by the carnal flesh of greedy men.

It's a sad, simple tale that I've heard time and time again. And so good and evil dance their ageless dance throughout London's streets. The silver rain pours from the heavens like a curtain to set the stage.

It is never simple anymore; things are no longer black or white. There are only shades of grey.

But grey is dark enough for me.

The woman walks closer to my hiding spot, her pale figure slight and unassuming.

She is drawn to me; I grin through my wraith-like shape.

And then I pounce.


	2. Chapter 1: Rat

A/N: Just a quick thing to get out of the way: I headcanon all supernatural creatures in the Black Butler universe (i.e. Demons, Angels, Grimm Reapers) as being agender creatures that can take the shape of whatever they want. There are some of them like Sebastian and Will that typically stick to one gender and are traditionally masculine. Then there are others like Grell and my OC that alternate between the two or are just non-binary in general. As Grell's wikipedia page uses they/them pronouns, I'm doing the same. Also, my character is 'genderfluid' but typically uses 'she/her', but that doesn't really matter as it's told in first person anyways. Good, glad I got that off my chest. So, without further ado, here's chapter 1.

* * *

Chapter 1: Rat

* * *

 _Idle hands are the devil's workshop_. My mistress's words sing in my ears as I bend over the thorny brambles, avidly snipping away at the fat, red roses that burst out from between the black leaves. I smirk to myself.

"If she only knew." A loud crash from behind me alerts my perked ears. I glance up in time to see Grell flat on their face in the middle of the front garden, the contents of a bag of soil spilled all about them in a sooty pile.

I sigh; straightening up; I stretch, cracking my sore back. "Grell, what earth are you doing?"

Grell jumps to their feet, spraying flecks of dirt all over the place. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry; I'm such a disaster aren't I?" they exclaim, maddeningly scrambling in an attempt to pick up the spilled earth, but to no avail; they only spill more and make an even bigger mess. "I'm frightful excuse for a servant," they continue to sob, "I should just kill myself. Kill myself!" They then grab the now emptied soil bag and try to smother themselves with it.

I roll my eyes. "You hardly make for a sympathetic picture when you're covered in dirt," I declare, striding over and yanking the bag away from them. "Now, go inside and get changed. We have to leave in less than an hour."

Grell peers up at me, their face still peppered with filth. They're a rather mousy, scraggly creature with big deep green eyes that are inflated behind a pair of large round glasses which take up most of their face. Coupled with a wide mouth full of big teeth, it gives Grell the illusion of some sort of caricature. Their deep brown hair is swept back in a ponytail that is tied up with a red ribbon, a stark contrast to their otherwise all black attire.

Our mistress is fond of red. "Oh? Where are we going?" Grell inquires.

I smile, reaching forward to pluck a clump of dirt off their nose. "Don't you remember? Lady Angelina is going to the country to visit her nephew."

"Is that why we had to get up at this ungodly hour to prune the garden?" Grell wails. "How am I supposed to get my beauty rest?"

"You look fine," I insist, despite the fact that they look like they've been dumpster diving in a back alley somewhere. "Now, go get dressed. I'll finish up here."

"Really?" Grell brightens; jumping to their feet, they lean forward and peck me on each cheek. "Oh thank you, Elly. You are a treasure!" they exclaim before scampering off back into the house.

I watch them go, arms crossed in a perturbed stance. I am less than comfortable at the moment. I glance down, noting my scrawny arms. This body is no older than nineteen, probably not done cooking yet. The skin is leaving me considerably agitated. I need some catharsis, like more children to slaughter.

I think back to the whore's simpering son, wailing for its mother as I came home wearing her face.

Ariella Desdemona or 'Ella' for short. That had been the name of the whore whose body I'd stolen. It was rather on a whim on the night I first arrived in this specific point of space and time.

London England in the late 19th century. It was anything but the picturesque concept of beauty; rot and filth slowly crept up from the underbelly of the great churning machine of the city, staining the skirts of the noble men and woman who walked along the backs of the poorer, weaker brood.

But that was weeks ago, and my hands hadn't tasted blood since. Or my teeth for that matter…I run my tongue along my upper lip. I am itching for a slaughter, but know that I can't do anything so rash at a time like this.

My presence in this plane is strictly prohibited, but I'm here for a matter of extreme importance. Otherwise, I wouldn't be wearing the body of a street urchin or snipping roses for a noblewoman's front garden. I scowl at the thought of manual labor, although these hands are no stranger to work, the act of doing such menial tasks is more of burden upon my pride than anything else.

The face itself is not necessarily unsightly (I've had worse), but, all the same, I find it decidedly unpleasant. For one thing, I'm exceptionally small. Granted, I've taken smaller shapes in the past, and yet this meager height of 5'2 has proved most bothersome. I'm not used to being talked down to.

Likewise, the body is also young, scrawny and under-nourished; there's little to work with. The face is thin, with pronounced cheekbones, small, pinched features that seem to be drawn in a permanent scowl, a tight mouth and a sprinkle of freckles across the nose. The eyes are sharp and slightly upturned, dyed my signature golden-tawny. The hair is of a similar shade: ash blonde and as straight as an arrow; I keep it swept up under the white cap that keeps it off my face when I cook or clean. It matches the white ruffled apron that is tied around my waist, standing out sharply against the red dress and deep black boots I wear underneath.

I tug at my leather work gloves, my worn hands chaffing against the rough fabric. _Might as well get back to work._

At that moment, the door opens and my mistress steps onto the porch with a flourish. She's an unusual woman; the Baroness Angelina Dales-Burnett is always clothed entirely in red from head to toe. Starting with her sharp, clipped head and her small eyes that glint like rubies amidst her porcelain face. Her clothing is a display of crimson shades, rolling off her figure like waves of blood or rich wine.

Therefore, her local nickname is appropriate: Madam Red.

"Ella, darling, do hurry up," Madam Red calls out to me. "We mustn't keep my darling nephew waiting."

I do my best to hide my disinterest. Between this body and Grell, my fellow servant and Madam Red's simpering butler, I'm nearly at my wit's end. But I know that I have to continue this charade if I'm to find what it is that I'm looking for.

There is evil that pokes out through the polished cracks of the gentry's façade. Said evil is my desire, not just my food source, but the very reason I came to this world. The ashes of Hellfire are rich upon the noble soil, and it's my job to find out why.

"Ella, did you hear me?" Madam Red calls.

"I'll be done in a second, Madam," I reply, bobbing my head as I readjust my gloves and return my attention to the garden. Piles and piles of black dirt meet my gaze courtesy of Grell's latest debacle.

I sigh.

* * *

"Grell, you are holding the reins completely wrong!" I exclaim in exasperation as the butler wrestles with the leather straps. The horse jerks in confusion, and the carriage shifts violently to the left, jostling me in my perch beside Grell on the driver's seat.

"I'm doing my best, Elly. This blasted beast just won't listen to me."

"Of course it won't" I shoot back, "It probably thinks you're trying to strangle it!"

"This is unfair," Grell whines, letting the reins fall from their fingers, causing me to have to quickly grab them before the horse veers off the road. "Oh look at my hands," Grell moans, glancing down at their swollen pink fingers, "This type of grunt-work is not suitable for a delicate flower such as myself. Why can't you drive, Elly?"

"Because," I say through gritted teeth, shoving the reins back into their hands, "I'm presenting as a girl today, and you also need to learn how to drive without me babysitting you. How do you expect to be a proper butler when you need the maid to hold your hand?"

Grell wilts in their seat. "Oh Elly, you are so cruel."

"I'm the very definition of cruel," I shoot back, "And don't call me _Elly_! Ella is bad enough."

Grell and I sit in silence for the rest of the drive, each nursing our own wounded pride.

"Oh look, we're here!" Grell pipes up after a time.

I glance up and see our destination slowly melt out of the thick green woods that surround the estate. The manor in question is a deep set grey, dark and foreboding with only a splash of color dripping from the roof that comes from the midmorning sun. Silver and gold mix together quite nicely, but there is still a shadow across the house.

"If my memory serves me, Madam Red's nephew is the Earl Phantomhive, a most distinguished nobleman indeed."

"Phantomhive, huh?" I muse to myself. _Why a name with such a sense of trepidation?_

"At long last, we're here!" Madam Red exclaims, leaning her head out the window. "I'm coming, my darling nephew."

"Yip!" Grell jumps and jerks the reins again. The horse rears up in surprise, and the carriage shakes roughly.

"Grell!" I cry, snatching the reins from them again. "Do sit down my lady!" I call down to Madam Red. "I want you comfortable in case you're idiot butler gets us all killed."

Upon arriving at the manor, Madam Red exits her carriage and climbs the steps to the Phantomhive manor along with several other aristocrats who had come for their biweekly game of pool followed by afternoon tea.

Grell and I, meanwhile, are instructed to park the carriage around back and dispatch the horse into the stable to rest (Lord knows he needs it).

"I'll leave this to you," I declare, standing in the doorway of the stable while Grell attempts to pry the bridle out from between the horse's teeth. The animal knickers, snapping at them with its large, square jaws; it's obviously holding a grudge.

"Oh, why me!" Grell complains.

I scowl at them, "You want to talk of one not suitable for grunt-work? Don't you remember who I am?"

Grell's shoulders slump, "All too well."

"Precisely, then I'll leave you to it," I state as turn to leave. Upon doing so, I catch a small streak of pale grey fur scamper by out of the corner of my vision.

Rats. They'd been a problem in the inner city as of late, and I'd had my fair share of attempting to snuff them out of Madam Red's estate.

My fingers twitch as I watch the tiny creature scamper off into the yellow scrub lining the back wall of the mansion.

 _Ah, catharsis._

"Here, whiskers," I whisper, my body slowly slipping into a crouch.

I watch, poised, as the tiny, unsuspecting creature shuffles its way over to the open kitchen door, nose twitching as it detects the smells wafting out from it.

Then I spring. My body launches forward, and my hand swipes at the air. It closes into a fist around the rat's body, and I feel the crunch of its toothpick bones shatter to splinters in my fingers.

The rodent barely lets out a squeak of surprise before it is silenced and goes limp in my grip. I straighten up, staring down at the dead rat with a look of barely suppressed irritation. _Damn, I killed it too quickly._

"Oi! Who are you?"

I glance up in surprise. During my hunt, I'd failed to notice I'd crossed the threshold into the manor's kitchen. It is a cramped, low-ceilinged space; the back wall behind me is made entirely of worn grey brick which matches the brick oven across the room. The walls are lined with plates and various pots hang from hooks on the ceiling. There's a deep sink against the wall to my left along with an iron stove. In the center of the room there's an island that currently contains the broken pieces of what looked like a china tea seat. Warm, muddy liquid is dripping down the wooden sides and several forks and knives are scattered around the floor.

I raise an eyebrow at the mess, but then turn my attention in the direction of the voice that had inquired after me. A tall, lean, rough-faced man with a mop of scraggly blonde hair and a five o'clock shadow is standing beside the island, holding a cleaver in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. Beside him is a younger boy with a face like a girl, complete with blue, doe-like eyes and a straw hat perched on his head.

"Sorry. I'm so sorry, Baldroy," another voice sobs just as a girl in a maid's dress crawls around the corner of the island, frantically trying to pick up silverware. Not looking where she's going, she walks into my leg. I don't budge as I glance down at her, bewildered.

She peers up at me. She's pink-cheeked with a pair of thick glasses much like Grell's perched on the tip of her slightly upturned nose. A frilly white headband is perched on her head amongst silky purple-red pigtails.

She gapes up at me. "Who-Who are you?"

"You really should look where you're going," I remark.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, miss!" the maid whimpers, scrambling to her feet and adjusting herself into an awkward curtsey. "Oh, I've made a terrible mess of things," she adds, glancing around at the broken chinaware.

I arch an eyebrow. I wonder if all people who wear glasses are inherently dimwitted.

"So, you gonna tell us who you are or are you just going to stand there with a sour look on your face?" the man with the cleaver asks.

I turn my gaze back to him. "Ariella. I'm Ariella Desdemona, the personal assistant and housekeeper to the Baroness Angelina Dales-Burnett. You can call me Ella."

"Madam Red? That's Lord Phantomhive's aunt, yes it is!" the maid chirps.

"Indeed," I reply.

"Hello, Ella!" the younger blonde boy exclaims, bounding over the island with more force than I would have thought his skinny frame could muster. "I'm Finny!" he declares, clasping my hands between his. "I'm the gardener of the Phantomhive Estate."

The man with the cleaver sets down his blade, pausing to light his cigarette and jams it between his smirking lips before he steps around the muddy mess of tea and walks over to me.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Baldroy, the Phantomhive Estate's chef," he exclaims, holding his hand out to me.

I stare at it pointedly. He flinches, looking embarrassed at his informal manner of introduction, "Oh, sorry."

"Nice to meet you," I declare, snatching his hand and crushing it in my own.

Baldroy yelps and jerks his hand away. "Oi! You've got a grip like iron."

"So, I've been told," I reply, glancing over at the broken china littering the floor. "Although, I dare say you've ruined the afternoon tea."

"Oh it's all my fault," the maid sobs. I notice that her voice is slightly nasally, as though those redicolously large glasses of hers are pinching her nose a little too tightly. "I'm such a clutz, I am."

"Don't worry, Mey-Rin," Finny attempts to reassure her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "We'll get this mess cleaned up no problem."

The maid, Mey-Rin, sniffs in response.

"Yeah, but what are we going to do about the tea?" Baldroy asks, rubbing the back of his neck, "We gotta bring it up to the master and his guests in a matter of minutes."

Finny's face fell, and Mey-Rin looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Sebastian will be so angry, yes he will!" she hiccupped. "What are we going to do?"

"If you'll permit me," I sidle past them and walk up to the island, inspecting the splintered pile of porcelain. The look like jagged puzzle pieces. _This tea set is totaled._

I glance at the clock out of the corner of my eye. _The chef's right; we don't have much time._

"Alright," I declare, straightening my shoulders and turning to face the other three, who all immediately snap to attention. "We have less than fifteen minutes until that tea is supposed to be upstairs in the drawing room with the mistress and young master. Therefore, Baldroy, you start a fresh batch of crumpets; Finny, clean the cart, Mey-Rin, get a broom and sweep up this mess then go in the cupboard and get another tea set. Don't drop it!"

Mey-Rin and Finny both nodded and quickly got to work on their assigned jobs.

Baldory held back, "And what're you gonna do?"

I smirk, "I'm going to make the tea of course."

* * *

Twelve minutes later, Mey-Rin and I are rolling the cart laden with freshly brewed tea in a brand new teapot nestled beside a platter full of steaming crumpets and butter to the parlor where our guests are waiting.

I steal a glance at the grandfather clock standing at attention in the hall as we pass. _Cutting it close…_

"Your tea," Mey-Rin sings out as she pushes the cart into the parlor, and all present in the room beyond look up as we enter.

The parlor is a light, airy space; hardly what I expected after seeing the grey exterior of the manor and its drab kitchen. The couches are velvet red and situated around an oak coffee table. Behind them are huge windows framed in thin, white curtains.

My mistress Madam Red is seated on one of the sofa's beside an Asian man in green robes. He has slim eyes and a smile like a serpent. Perched on his lap like a doll is a Chinese girl with large, cat-like eyes dressed in a shameless silk dress that barely covers her crotch.

On the other side of the table is a high-backed armchair and on it sits a child. But he is child in body alone; in stance and stare, he has the aura of a much older adult. There is darkness in his heart and cruelty in his eye, his one eye: robin's egg blue. The other is concealed behind a leather eye patch and a tuft of blue-black hair. He sits with his legs crossed in a red suit and shorts; his hand resting on his cheek, looking bored.

 _Who is that?_ His soul comes at me in waves, layer after layer of malice and strife. What complexity…What uniqueness.

I feel myself begin to salivate, but the answer to my question is clear. _So, this is Madam Red's nephew. The Earl of Phantomhive is a child._

"Mey-Rin, would you pour the tea please," a voice calls from the shadows. It is a deep, ice-cold baritone that makes my heart stand still, and my stomach twist into knots. _No…it can't be._

I glance to my left to see Grell standing at attention by the far wall. Their eyes are trained on the every move of the figure beside them, a pale pink blush blanketing their cheeks. The figure is all black and darkness, seemingly cloaked in the shadows themselves. He steps up to help Mey-Rin pour the tea as she fumbles with the teapot. He's tall and trim, dressed in a crisp, well-kept suit. His face is lean and polished, porcelain white and framed by silky black hair. His lips are thin and curled into a delicate smile; his eyes are such a dark shade of red they are almost black, burning like hot coals.

It is these eyes that soon turn their attention to me and recognition flares up in them. I see his hand subtly curl into a fist.

I raise an eyebrow. _Problem?_ I ask with my eyes.

He looks at me, his hand slowly relaxing. _Not at all,_ he replies before turning his attention to the tea.

"Your tea," the man announces, passing a cup to the boy Earl.

The boy accepts it, glancing up at me with his single steely eye. "And who are you?"

"Oh, you haven't met yet, have you?" Madam Red pipes up, "Ciel, this is my new housekeeper Ella. Ella, this is my nephew the Earl Phantomhive."

"Nice to meet you, my lord," I declare, bowing respectfully; I can feel the man in black's eyes boring into my neck beside me. "I helped in preparing the tea today," I add, "it's a special Darjeeling blend to offer from Fortman and Mason today."

The man in black then precedes to hand a cup to the Chinese man and the girl on his lap. The latter I assume is probably Lau; I'd heard my mistress mention him before as the head of some Chines trading company, but since he's acquainted with Madam Red, he's probably got his hands in some shadier dealings.

"Smells lovely," Lau declares, pausing to take a sip. "Yes, tea can be excellent when prepared well."

I smile slightly, my arrogance momentarily burning through.

As the man in black pours a third glass for my mistress, I catch a glimpse of Grell, starry-eyed as they stare longingly at him. _Oh for goodness sake._

"Grell," my mistress says sharply, causing them to snap back to attention.

"Uh, yes, my lady?"

"Learn something from Sebastian," she remarks coldly as she accepts her glass from the dark man.

 _Hmm, so he's a butler as well. Sebastian…_

"Just look at him," Madam Red continues, setting down her glass, "I mean, this physique!" she exclaims, reaching forward to rub Sebastian's ass. "You should quite this city job and come work for me in the city."

Sebastian jumps, nearly dropping the tea pot.

The Earl Phantomhive clears his throat pointedly. "Madam Red."

"Oh, sorry," she exclaims, flushing furiously, "I couldn't help it. He looked like he needed a physical; just a doctor's habit."

The Earl Phantomhive looks unconvinced as he sets down his glass; just then, a scrap of silver scrambles out from under the coffee table.

"Eeek!" Madam Red cries, jumping up from her chair as the rat scampers past her foot and over to Grell. "Catch it, Grell!" she cries.

Grell screams and ducks behind a bookcase.

"Sebastian!" the Earl barks, jumping to his feet.

The butler starts forward, but I beat him to it. Rushing forward, I snatch the rat up by the tip of its wormy tail; straightening up, I dangle the squirming creature between my thumb and forefinger as it writhes, squeaking pitifully.

"I will dispose of this, my lady," I declare, bowing sharply before turning to leave. As I do so, I spot the Earl glaring at me out of the corner of my eye. My eyes widen a fraction of an amount. Does he…know? Has he realized what I am?

I shake off the thought and step into the hall; Mey-Rin toddling off behind me with the tea trolley, heading back to the kitchen.

I turn the opposite way down the hall and quickly duck into a side sitting room lined with books. The room is dark and musty, the curtains thick with dust so they shut out even the smallest fraction of light. I glance down at the rat still trying to break free from my grasp. It wiggles and whines, straining its tiny legs.

My nose crinkles in disgust before I tilt my head back and slowly raise the rat above my face. My jaw unhinges and slowly rises up to meet the creature, who screams one last time, before I swallow it, fur and all, in one gulp.

I cough quietly into my fist, my face returning to its normal state. I shiver slightly: the feet were cold going down.

I reach up to feel my throat only to suddenly have the pressure of icy steel being placed against it.

I stiffen, glancing back to see Sebastian standing directly behind me, a butter knife in his gloved hand that is currently pressing against my windpipe.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

I smirk, reaching forward to gently lower the knife, "A rather hapless greeting, but come now, is that any way to treat an old friend?"

"You didn't answer my question," Sebastian coolly responds.

My eyes narrow. "I do not have to answer to you." With that, I spin on my heel and kick Sebastian hard in the pelvis. He stumbles back slightly, giving me just the window I need to rush forward and slam him against the wall, pinning his hands down under my own fingers, which dig into his gloved palms like claws. "Several centuries have passed since we last saw each other, Abaddon, and it seems that time has affected your memory. Have you forgotten who I am? You and I both know that if I wanted to, I could rip you apart into a million pieces without even raising a finger."

Sebastian grits his teeth, struggling against me.

"So is that why you're here?" he spat, "To drag me back? Back into chains?"

"Let us not forget it was you that betrayed the Demon Lord, Abaddon," I calmly reply, "It may have been seven hundred years ago, but did you really think that by hiding away all this time the Lord was simply going to forget? These passing centuries have been but a passing breath to your Lord. He does not forget, nor does he forgive."

"So, are you going to kill me then?"

My expression softens as I slowly release Sebastian and take a step back. "For the moment no. Running into you was a pure coincidence. I have come to the Earth for a different reason all together."

"And what reason might that be?"

I raise an eyebrow at his brashness. "Did you think I'm just going to tell you that? You aren't a part of the Inner Circle anymore, Abby. You have no right to know."

Sebastian's eyes fume. "Do not call me 'Abby'. It's Sebastian in this form."

"Really? St. Sebastian, the one pierced by arrows." I take a step closer to him, reaching forward to gently caress his smooth, silky cheek. He flinches away, but doesn't dare move a step. "Such a lovely face. You always did have an aesthetic for pretty shapes. This one is simply marvelous."

"I wish I can say the same for yours," Sebastian replies.

My eyes widen in mock hurt. "You don't like it?" I ask, twirling on the spot so the skirt of my scarlet dress flounces out around me.

"It's…different from any other shapes you've taken in the past," Sebastian replies.

"That's the idea, although admittedly it is not a shape of my choosing. This was the body of a woman I met in passing upon arriving from the Sheol."

Sebastian's raises an eyebrow in surprise before his expression folds into a snort of laughter. "So, you slipped into a skin rather than taking a proper shape in order to avoid detection: your presence here is strictly prohibited, isn't it?"

I scowl at him. "The legality of my coming to this world is not a matter of concern. I am the eyes and ears of the Demon Lord, I will fulfill my duty to my king. I will find what I came here to find, and you," I take another step closer so that we're practically touching, infuriated that I have to look up at him from my meager height, "You aren't going to stop me."

Sebastian looks slightly miffed. "I'm not a fool."

"Are you sure of that?" I reply, "The last I heard of you, you were tormenting some old poet by sitting on his windowsill in the shape of a raven."

Sebastian looks uncomfortable.

"What? Did you think you could run from the Demon Lord forever, Abby?" I ask, poking him the chest. "I'm sure he's most interested in what you've been up to all these years."

Sebastian's hands curl into fists once more. "My Contract with the Earl Ciel Phantomhive is entirely legal. You cannot fault me on it."

I smile, "So kind of you, I didn't even have to ask." I step away from him as he asks,

"So, who are you Contracted with?"

"No one. I do not require such a base means of staying in this plane of existence. Although the boy's aunt has proved a most useful tool." I turn back to Sebastian, who's watching my every move incredulously. "There's an evil in this city, Sebastian, a force unlike anything else in the world, and I'm here to find it."

Sebastian smiles, but there's no humor in his eyes. "I wish you the best of luck then," he exclaims with a mock boy before turning to leave.

He pauses as he passes me on the threshold. "Stay out of my way."

I smirk. "You're in no position to be making threats, Abaddon. If you continue to mock me, I shall cut your pretty little heart out and squeeze it between my nails until it pops like an overripe cherry."

Sebastian chuckles, "You haven't changed."

"Sebastian!" the Earl Ciel Phantomhive's voice sharply calls out from the hall. I whirl around in time to see the butler step out into the hall to meet his young master. "What on earth are you doing?" he demands.

"Nothing, my lord, simply talking," Sebastian replies with a more respectful bow.

"Forgive us, sir," I add, coming up behind him, "Sebastian and I are old friends. We were just catching up."

Ciel looks at me, evidently understanding the meaning of my words, but he says nothing more to me. "Chat with friends on your own time," he snaps at Sebastian.

"Forgive me, master," Sebastian replies with another bow. "My lord, would you still care for today's dessert? It's a deep dish pie with apples and raisins," he adds, straightening up. "It will be ready soon. Would you like to eat with your guests?"

"Bring it to my study," Ciel replies, "I'm done here." Then, with one more glance at me, he stalks off down the hall.

"Certainly, my lord," Sebastian replies brightly.

"AAAAAHHHH!" Sebastian doesn't even flinch as Mey-Rin, Finny and Baldroy come sprinting down the hall in hot pursuit of a pair of rats. Mey-Rin is brandishing mouse traps, Finny is dressed in a cat suit and Baldroy is holding a spatula like a weapon.

Sebastian's eyes darken as the two creatures scamper past. He lunges forward and snatches both up in one hand. "That's enough of that," he declares, dropping the two now dead rodents into the net Finny is holding. "Now stop playing and get back to work."

"Yes," the three servants reply before scuttling away.

Sebastian stiffens when he hears the sound of me slow-clapping behind me. "A most impressive display, although I dare say you're reflexes have gotten a little stunted."

Sebastian scowls. "As I recall, you only caught one rat in the parlor, and I caught two."

"Yes, but I also apprehended one in the back garden," I reply, striding past him and heading back to the parlor. "Do try to keep up, Abby."

"My name is Sebastian!"

* * *

I had scarcely returned to the parlor where my mistress was still talking with Lau when a loud bang followed by the sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the manor. Madam Red and Lau both race out of the room and down the hall in the direction of the noise followed close behind by Grell and myself.

When we arrive in the front hall of the second floor, we find Sebastian standing with the pie in one hand and a letter in the other. Mey-Rin is beside him, looking decidedly flustered. Broken fragments of what appeared to be a shattered vase litter the floor as well as the water the vase contained which is slowly seeping into the carpet. Beside Sebastian's head is a large hole in the glass of the window. I squint past him into the forest just outside the manor, my lips curling into a knowing sneer.

"What is going on here?" Madam Red asks just as Finny and Baldroy appear as well.

"Sorry for the noise, my lady," Sebastian says to Madam Red, flashing her a charming smile, "I assure you nothing's wrong."

"Nothing, are you sure?" Madam Red inquires glancing at the broken window just as Grell, who'd lagged behind, comes up behind me, clearly out of breath.

"Everyone, I have business to attend to," Sebastian announces, walking up to Baldroy and handing him the pie, "Would you mind cleaning this up?"

Baldroy stares down at the dessert. "So, when you say clean…uh…That means we can eat it, right?" he asks, but Sebastian doesn't respond as he calmly walks off down the hall.

I watch him go, my eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Well, if my nephew isn't going to entertain us any longer, I suppose it's time we take our leave," Madam Red declares, turning to me. "Ella, I would like you to drive home so go get ready."

"Yes, madam," I turn to Mey-Rin. "Can I use your powder room?"

"Oh, yes," Mey-Rin exclaims, still looking a little flustered.

I then head off to the parked carriage outside to fetch a carpet bag with my things. Mey-Rin follows me, looking confused before leading me to the powder room.

I step inside the cramped space, shutting the door, and then opening the bag to reveal a neatly pressed black male's suit complete with a tail coat and a red satin vest, black spats, a gold chain watch, a red hair ribbon, and a black top hat with a red ribbon around the hem.

I quickly undress, taking off my dress, apron, cap, and boots and throwing on the suit and shoes. I'm tying my ash blonde hair up into a ponytail as I step outside to find Mey-Rin still standing by the door.

She eyes me in bemusement. "Ella, why're you dressed like a man?"

"Because Grell can't drive the carriage to save his life, or anyone else's for that matter," I reply, breezing past her and heading outside.

When I step outside onto the manor steps in my new masculine attire, I find Madam Red, Lau, and the Chinese girl talking as they wait for Grell to bring the horses around.

"Are we certain nothing's wrong?" Madam Red asks.

"If that butler says nothing's wrong, then I'm inclined to believe him," Lau replies simply. "He's been in the Earl's service for so long, and it's quite plain to see there's some sort of unshakable bond between those two. You can always find him at the Earl's side, like a shadow."

I sniff. _Understandably so, if Sebastian is Contracted to Ciel Phantomhive then he would be at his side at all times. I wonder… What could a child like that possibly want with one of us?_ It certainly is a perplexing scenario.

"So long?" Madam Red pipes up, "But Sebastian didn't arrive until two years ago, that's not long at all."

"Oh really? How odd, my memory is so unreliable. Isn't that right, Ran Mao?" he asks the Chinese girl beside him.

Ran Mao blinks at him in confusion.

"Useless," Madam Red grumbles.

At that moment, Grell appears with the carriage, still looking rather flushed and starry-gazed.

I roll my eyes as I climb into the driver's seat. "Scoot over, Grell."

"Oh did you see him, Elly?" he exclaims, handing the reins to me. "Wasn't he simply perfect? That face, that voice, that body. He was like the shadowy prince of a dark kingdom come to steal me away from the light!"

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," I declare, cracking the reins, and the carriage starts moving. "Abaddon is a proud demon, hardly the type to go for someone like you."

Grell pouts their lips at me. "Oh poo, Elly, always such a spoil sport. What do you know about it anyways?"

I give them a sideways glance, "More than you realize. Abaddon was one of the soldiers that served under me when I was a General in the First War. But that was a long time ago, of course, since then he's become a bit of a rogue."

"Oh, I can expect that of one so dashing!" Grell gushes, a twinkle in their eyes. "And he has an absolutely flawless figure."

I crinkle my brow. "Hmm, I suppose I'll give you that. He always has been good at constructing the most appealing shapes. He has a great aesthetic, an artist, you might say."

"He's perfect!"

"If you say so."

At that, a sudden rush of darkness pulses up from the ground. It rushes up from my body beginning with my feet and then slowly coursing through my veins. My hands tighten on the leather reins, my whole body going cold as ice.

I feel Grell tense beside me. "Did you feel that?"

I nod, licking my dry lips. "Someone's just died."

"You don't suppose…?"

"No. Grell, take the reins. I'm going to go check it out."

"What?! But Elly, I…Wait!"

The reins drop down beside them, and Grell hastily scrambles to retrieve them as I vanish in a shower of black.

* * *

I reappear beside a cliff just as a car hurtles over the cliff and crashes into the forest-laden valley below. It explodes upon impact and a burst of sooty smoke and sparks shoot up, singing the tips of Sebastian's tail coat as he alights on the ground in front of me, still holding the pie tray in one hand.

He glances up, and his eyes widen in surprise when they catch sight of me. "What are you doing here?" he demands, straightening up.

I sigh. "Must we do this dance again? Or are you going to tip more cars over cliffs?"

Sebastian's eyes narrow. "This matter is none of your concern. You should be attending to your mistress like a proper servant."

I scowl. "Abby, don't insult my intelligence. I knew that was a bullet hole in the windowpane and don't think I didn't notice the chap with the sniper rifle sitting in the tree."

Sebastian sighs, "No, I suppose you would."

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"My young master has been abducted by the Italian mob due to him intercepting a shipment of their opium."

I raise an eyebrow. "What could a noble brat like him want with a shipment of drugs?"

Sebastian smirks, "Do not be so quick to judge, Ella. There's more to my young master then meets the eye."

"So, I take it those men were sent here to exterminate us then?"

"You would be correct."

"Of course."

"Oh dear," Sebastian exclaims, brandishing a silver pocket watch hanging from a chain at his hip. "I better hurry or I'll never have dinner ready on time. If you'll excuse me."

He then slips into the shadows and vanishes. My brow furrows, "Oh no you don't." I then disappear after him.

When we reappear in the physical realm, we are standing at the gates of a gigantic mansion nestled in the depths of London. The establishment is bursting at the seams with guards all well-armed with various rifles and pistols.

"You didn't have to follow me," Sebastian says sharply.

"Perhaps, but I'm intrigued by this scenario," I reply simply.

"You should be getting back to your mistress."

"What? And face another dull evening of rose tea and gossip? I think not. You have no idea how I've been itching for a little fun, Abaddon. A slaughter. And this looks like it's going to be a bloodbath." My eyes gleam at the thought as I survey the house.

"Suit yourself," Sebastian replies, tucking the tray under his arm. He slips back into the shadows, and I follow close behind. We pass through the guards as easily as ghosts pass through walls.

"My, my, what a splendid home," Sebastian muses, shielding his eyes to get a view of the building as we appear on the steps.

"I don't know, I think it's a bit shabby honestly," I reply.

The guards of the mansion, who are all now to our backs, whirl around in alarm. "Who the hell are these two?" the thug closest to us demands.

Sebastian turns around, "Oh, my apologies," he places a hand on his chest, "I represent the Phantomhive household."

"And I the house of the Baroness Dales-Burnett," I add.

"Is the short one a girl or a bloke?" one of the crowd of thugs whispers.

My eyes narrow and then the one that spoke suddenly gives a cry, falling to the ground flailing; he eventually goes still. Dead.

There's an uproar throughout the crowd, anger mixing with panic into a potent brew. Suddenly, bullets are fired, streaking towards Sebastian and me in a cloud of gleaming copper.

I hold up a finger, and the bullets all vanish upon leaving their barrels. There are gasps of confusion before Sebastian pounces.

Blood sprays out, splattering the floors and dripping down the mansion's steps as the heaps of flesh and bone crash to the earth, not having time to scream or beg as their lives are ripped from them.

One from behind tries to grab at me. I look to the side, and the man drops dead upon meeting my golden gaze. Sebastian snatches another at the wrist, and I hear the pleasant shattering of bone.

"AUGH! My arm! He twisted the bone!" the man shrieks, collapsing to his knees amidst the filth of his comrades fluids, gripping his wrecked limb.

"Pardon me," Sebastian declares, "But I'm in a hurry." He pulls out his watch once more "5:34," he muses.

The man continues to shriek on the ground, writhing about in the scum and blood as he screams in pain.

"Oh, do be quiet," I insist, flitting over to him and pressing a finger into his forehead. The man exhales as his breath leaves him and he falls into the puddles of red one last time, never to move again.

I look back at Sebastian who has already opened the doors to the mansion and is stepping into the house.

I follow him as we enter a spacious front hall lined with floors of black and white tile. We cross the hall and come to a set of double doors made of deep oak with polished golden handles.

Sebastian opens it and then steps aside to allow me to enter. I cross into a large dining area. There are twin fireplaces on either side of the door and a long table clothed in white with place settings and chairs lining the piece. Elegant gold-trimmed paintings hang from the walls, and there is an open second floor balcony on either side of us.

I've barely stepped over the threshold when the sounds of shots rings out from the balconies as several of the men positioned there fire at once. Sebastian jumps in front of me, blocking the bullets with his pie tray. They zing off the surface in flashes of sparks. I maneuver around him, sprinting the length of the long room. He jumps after me, alighting on the table as he hurls the tray up into the balcony, knocking several out a once as the flat metal plate collides with their heads, and they fall like dominos.

The ones on the other side are still firing on me. I freeze at the table's end, turning a back flip to dodge the fire. In midair, I shoot my arms out and open my fingers like fans.

The men on either side of me drop their guns, arms going to their throats as they are throttled, collapsing to the floor.

I land on the chair at the end of the table, tipping it forward to neatly alight on the floor. Sebastian lands in front of me, a series of polished forks and knives poking out from between his knuckles.

I watch in bewilderment as he hurls them out like throwing daggers and each hits its mark at the remaining men's throats. They all gasp and choke, falling to the ground in showers of blood.

"Killing with cutlery, are you mental?" I ask

"Not all of us can kill with a swipe of the finger, Ella," Sebastian reminds me.

"Alright, but don't expect any help with the dishes later,"

More men come pouring out from the side doors, firing as they run.

I glance up, tossing my top hat off as a means of shielding myself before Sebastian and I take off in opposite directions, killing each in our own manner as the massacre continues.

The scent of blood and death is ripe in my nostrils; it seeps into my pores and invigorates my blood. _This is how to feel truly alive!_ I think as I sink my claws into the jugular of a thick-headed brute.

The only remainder is his skinny companion. Gun poised, trembling in his hand as he trains it on me. His lined face is chalk white; his petrified eyes meet mine.

I hop lightly along the balcony railing until I am crouched eye to eye with him. He can't even fire the gun, his body frozen in fear as I stare him down. My eyes are like molten gold, burning into his, and I can see myself reflected in the black pools of his pupils.

"Who…Who are you?" he whispers.

"Hell," I reply before pressing a finger to his forehead. He gasps, his eyes go glassy, and he crumples to the floor. I straighten up, still balancing on the railing as I gaze down at the array of corpses peppering the balcony and the floor below in some kind of twisted design, each oozing its life fluids all over the pale, polished floors. I sniff, their stale blood clogging my nostrils, "Hmph, humans are no fun."

With that, I turn and drop the floor, the folds of my tailcoat flapping around me. I land on the head of one of the dead thugs, his skull crushed to mush under the sole of my shoe, guts and juice splattering across the tiles.

"Oh dear, that took longer than I expected," Sebastian's voice calls.

I glance up in surprise it see he's somehow managed to situate himself dangling upside down from the golden chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling. He hangs from his knees with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face.

"Abby, what on earth are you doing?" I called.

"Wasting time at the moment," Sebastian replies with a sigh before flipping back down onto the floor. He opens his watch, "Already 5:43. Here," he adds, handing me my top hat. "Let's get going. We haven't a moment to lose."

I smirk as he heads for the door at the other end of the room. "Just like old times, huh, Abby?"

He doesn't respond.

Sebastian walks up to the set of double doors, identical to the first and swiftly opens them. I come up behind him as the room beyond comes into view. It's a rather large, spacious office. The walls and ceiling are painted pale blue and trimmed in gold. The carpet is white as is the fireplace and several elaborate paintings of beautiful women hang on the walls. There's a large desk in the center with a broken telephone dangling over its side on its half-ripped cord.

In the center of the room there stands a man in a white suit. He has olive skin, wild sandy, blonde hair that spikes up in the back despite his attempts to tame it with hair pins. His eyes are ice blue, hiding their fear behind a thin veil of anger as he points his shaking pistol at the door.

Behind him, I spy Ciel Phantomhive slumped against the wall; he's bound in several layers of leather rope, and his face is bruised and slightly bloody; his eye patch has been torn off, and the usually covered eye is bloodied and closed, but there is still a confident smirk on his face.

"I have come to retrieve my master," Sebastian announces, bowing deeply.

The man tries to look disinterested but only succeeds in looking more nervous. "Is this some kind of joke," he spat in a thick Italian accent, "I was expecting a giant, instead I got a couple of scrawny dandies in tailcoats."

I scowl at him. _Who are you calling scrawny?_

"Who are you anyway?" the man continues, "There's no way you two are just a couple of servants."

"No, sir," Sebastian asserts. "You see I'm simply one hell of a butler."

"His words, not mine," I add. "I'm whatever you want me to be, but I promise it isn't good."

"Yeah sure," the Italian mob man sounds unconvinced, "It doesn't matter anyway. I have no intention of fighting you." His eyes narrow. He suddenly yanks Ciel up by the hair. The boy grunts in pain as the man jerks him up and holds his gun to his head. "But you better have what I want."

"Yes, I have the key to where the shipment of drugs my master intercepted is," Sebastian replies, reaching into his breast pocket. "It's right here."

 _Bang!_

The bullet goes straight through Sebastian's head, followed by a torrent of blood that sprays all over my coat _. Damn it, this was new._

More bullets flash through the air, ripping through Sebastian's body as he falls to the ground in a heap of blood and gore. Some attempt to find me but shatter into ash before they even touch my skin. I stare pointedly at the direction they're coming from to find that one of the paintings had a room behind it. The canvas has been ripped clean open like an old wound, and several thugs stand behind it, their guns still steaming.

I look to them thoughtfully. One of them notices I'm still standing and fires his gun again. I reach up, making a 'V' with my fingers, and the bullet slides neatly between the two digits.

The three men gap in shock before I turn towards them and flick the bullet in their direction. It crunches through the first man's skull, but it doesn't stop there as it bursts through the second and then the third man's head. They all drop like flies as the bullet sails back into my waiting hand, and I catch it as easily as catching a baseball.

"Huh, you know I do think the Australians are on to something," I muse.

I glance up when the Italian man laughs nervously. "What do you think you're doing? I don't know how they missed you or how you just managed to kill my men, but you've still lost. The Phantomhive butler is dead!" He turns back to Ciel, "Did you think I would go up against Phantomhive, Lord of Games, without a trump card of my own."

He then turns and fires the gun at me. It disintegrates before hitting my chest but the pressure of the bullet still knocks me off my feet and onto my back in the hall. I go limp momentarily as I listen to the Italian man continue to laugh and rave.

"You know I may have damaged the goods a bit, Earl Phantomhive, but I'd imagine you'd still fetch a pretty price. You have so many enemies; I doubt you'll be alive for much longer."

"Alright, I'm tired of messing around," Ciel's voice rings out in the room. "How much longer are you planning to play dead?"

For a second, I think he's talking to me. I sit up, and the Italian man practically screams, but then Sebastian's hand twitches.

"Not long," he replies.

The Italian man's eyes are as large as dinner plates, "But how…How are you…? You just…?"

Sebastian sits up; his face coated in blood as he holds his hand under his chin and spits the bullets into his palm. "Guns today are so much more efficient than they used to be," he declares, slowly rising back to his feet, blood dripping from his chin, "They can shoot so many more bullets now."

"Perhaps, but I still prefer an old-fashioned blade any day," I reply, getting up as well.

"Oh dear," Sebastian holds up the tattered ends of his jacket, "What a dreadful thing to do to a perfectly good tailcoat."

"You could have avoided that…idiot," Ciel snaps.

Sebastian looks back to his lord, "Master, how unfortunate. They don't seem to have taken very good care of you," he declares, striding over to Ciel and the Italian man.

"Indeed," I agree, crossing my arms as I follow him. "He looks like a helpless little child all tied up like that, but I guess that's appropriate."

"N-No!" the Italian man's voice breaks, "Stay back!" His grip tightens on his gun so hard his knuckles go white.

However, Sebastian and I ignore him. "If-If you come any closer, I will kill him!" the man continues to spout hollow threats.

"Can we hurry this along?" Ciel sounds bored. "His breath smells awful."

"But if I come any closer, he might kill you," Sebastian replies calmly.

"So what?" Ciel snaps, "Are you saying you want to break the Contract?"

"Of course not," Sebastian crosses his hand over his chest, "Nothing has changed, I remain your faithful servant, my lord."

"What the hell kinda nonsense are you two talking about?" the Italian man's voice is shrill.

"For God's sake, kill this simpering fool, Abaddon," I snap. "Or do I have to do it myself?"

Sebastian's smile is like ice as he presses a finger to his lips. "Master, you know what you have to do; now, just say the word."

"This is an order," Ciel's left eye opens, "Save me now!" His eyes gleams but it is not the same robin's egg blue but rather there is burned across the iris the shining gleam of a violet inverted pentagram.

My eyes widen in surprise. _The mark of the Faustian Contract…in such a noticeable place. Is their deal really that strong?_

"NO! IT'S OVER!" the Italian man cries.

 _Bang!_ The gun goes off.

Smoke swirls up from the end of the barrel, wisps drifting past the Italian man's face, shiny with sweat, as he gapes down at Ciel; the boy glances up at him, his expression unchanging.

"What? But that's impossible," the man whispers.

"Are you looking for this?" Sebastian holds up the bullet clasped neatly between his thumb and forefinger. The man freezes upon realizing the butler is right behind him.

"Here. Let me give it back to you," Sebastian drops the bullet into the man's front pocket.

It falls into his pocket and then the man screams. His left arm twist up into knots, his body hurling backward under the force of his pain; he screams as he hits the floor, writhing across the plush purple carpet.

I crack my knuckles, having returned to where I'd been previously standing.

The man gasps and chokes as Sebastian calmly bends down and gathers the still bound Ciel up in his arms. "I must say, the game wasn't as much fun this time as it was last time," the young lord declares as Sebastian turns away from the Italian man, setting Ciel down on a chair in the corner.

"N-No!" he cries, crawling a few paces after him, "Come back! Work for me; be my bodyguard, and I will pay you ten times what he does."

Sebastian doesn't respond. "Alright, twenty times! You can have all the liquor and women you want too."

Sebastian calmly bends down and rips off the leather straps restraining Ciel. "I'm sorry, Mr. Vanel; it's an attractive offer, but I have no interest in such materialistic things," Sebastian calmly replies, letting the torn leather fall to the floor. "You see, I'm simply…one hell of a butler." Sebastian's eyes glow blood red.

Sweat glistens on Mr. Vanel's forehead. "Uh…okay."

A shower of feathers swarms around us all; black as ink, they dance like shadows in candle light, and they remind me of the plains of the Asphodel, the ashes of Punishment, and the abyss of the Sheol. I breathe in the familiar scent of Darkness as I stride over to Sebastian.

"Allow me," I declare. "I'd be coming for him anyways…sooner or later."

"As you wish," Sebastian relents.

"Sebastian!" Ciel cries in surprise, but the butler ignores him as I slowly stride over to Mr. Vanel, who's cowering and simpering on the floor as the black feathers of the Raven dance around us, singing of Nevermore.

The black spreads throughout the room like a curtain across the world, sucking the very air out of the space.

"No…No…stay back!" Mr. Vanel cries, scrambling backwards, trembling as he clutches his dead limb. "Stay away! Stay away from me. Please, stay away!"

Sweat pours from his greasy face, and the salt twinges my nose as I crouch down in front of him. The scent of his fear is ripe on my tongue, and I lick the flavor from my lips.

"STAY AWAY!" Mr. Vanel tries to swing at me with his one good arm, but suddenly finds he can't move. His entire form rattles from fear as I look down on him, my golden eyes burning into the depths of his dark and twisted soul.

"Who…Who are you…?" he breathes.

I smile. "Do you really want to know?" I then lean forward and whisper the answer to his question into his ear.

The man's eyes open as fear floods them and then he starts screaming, and he doesn't stop. His fear, it seizes his entire form as he trembles and cries, wordless sounds pleading for mercy.

I press a finger to his forehead. "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."

And then he dies.

The darkness around us vanishes, swallowed up into the earth as the life is sucked from Mr. Vanel.

I straighten up, cracking my knuckles, my black nails gleaming. "Well, that's done."

"Much obliged, Ella," Sebastian calls to me, "You've been most helpful."

I smirk, "Was there ever any doubt."

"Sebastian!" Ciel cries at his butler, "Why did you allow her to kill him?"

"Was there really any difference?" I demand. "He was damned either way."

Ciel glares at me, both eyes burning with a different shade of fury. "Who gives you this right?"

"I'm afraid, young master, that Ella comes from a higher authority than I," Sebastian calmly explains to his lord. "She is one of the Inner Circle, the most powerful Demons in the Sheol, who answer only to the Demon Lord himself. Therefore, I am afraid her word is practically absolute."

Ciel continues to glare at me. Sebastian chuckles at his master's rage as he swiftly gathers the still injured boy up in his arms once more.

"I now know what you are," Ciel declares to me.

"Oh, I have no doubt," I reply. "I'm just surprised you figured it out so quickly. You knew practically from the moment I appeared in your parlor."

"I'll be watching you, Ariella Desdemona, very closely," Ciel continues.

I stifle a laugh. This child, gathered in the arms of my former underling hardly looks the least bit intimidating. "And I you, Ciel Phantomhive. This has been a most intriguing evening. I am most gracious for the entertainment, and you may have helped me in more ways than you might think." With that I turn to leave; pausing in the doorway, I glance back to see Sebastian give me a cold glare.

"Until we meet again, Sebastian."

* * *

The darkness consumes me, covering my body entirely, and only breaking its hold when I reappear beside Grell in the driver's seat of Madam Red's carriage. "What I miss?"

Grell screams and the carriage almost crashes into a tree before I manage to snatch the reins from them.

* * *

A/N: Fun Fact: the name 'Ariella' means 'lion of God'

So, that was chapter one, I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 2: Blue

A/N: I'm back from my hiatus! Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all had a great holiday :)

* * *

Chapter 2: Blue

* * *

 _The boy with the Demon's eye, stained by the Devil's touch…Ciel Phantomhive._ I muse to myself as I laboriously spoon sugar into the sugar bowl. _Just who exactly are you, little boy?_

 _THWACK!_

My head snaps up; flicking my golden eyes to the left, I spy a butter knife lodged deep in the wall beside my head; a hair to the side and I might have been impaled.

My eyes returned forward to find Sebastian pointedly glaring at me.

I sigh, "Must you?"

"You're overfilling the sugar bowl," the other Demon snaps irritably. "Stop daydreaming and pay attention. You're presence in this manor is a _privilege_ after all; do not waste my master's kindness with incompetence."

"Kindness? What kindness?" I grumble to myself as I gather up my tray and follow Sebastian, also laden with food, out of the kitchen. As far as I'm concerned, Ciel Phantomhive is a brat.

I follow the butler into the dining room where the young lord is waiting, looking as clean and respectable as ever. It has been a few days since that incident with the Italian mob, and the boy has almost completely recovered from the ordeal: his bruises having practically healed.

He eyes me coldly as I stand here holding the tray while Baldroy and Finny lay out the table cloth and Mey Rin the silverware.

Sebastian and I then place the platters of food on the table.  
Ciel glances at the display, "Where's the tea?"

"Grell's getting it," Bard replies.

Ciel blinks. "What?"

At that moment, there is a great crash followed by a crescendo of bumping, screaming, and the sloshing of liquid.

We all whirl around in time to see Grell burst through the doorway, having completely lost control of the tea trolley. Said cart smashes into the table and topples over, sending all manner of tea things flying across the carpet and Grell right along with it, still screaming as the china shatters, and the tea splatters across the freshly cleaned carpet.

A whole cup full of it gets on Finny's shirt, and the young boy shrieks, dancing around on the spot as the boiling liquid scalds his skin.

"Hot! Hot! Hot!"

Grell shrieks when they catch sight of Finny. "I'm so sorry," they exclaim, rushing forward. They kneel beside the young boy, "Here. I'll whip it off," they snatch at a napkin on the table but end up taking the whole table cloth with it, jerking Ciel's plate of food right out from under him.

Grell screams as the food clatters to the floor, mixing with the already destroyed tea set.

I face-palm. _Unbelievable._ I glance about at the mess, _I wonder how many tea sets they go through in this house._

Ciel sighs as Grell scrambles about trying to clean up his mess, but only seeing to make it worse.

"Master, why did you agree to take on such a useless idiot?" Baldroy whispers to him.

"You're one to talk," Ciel snaps back, "It didn't seem like such a bad idea at the time," he adds wistfully, no doubt remembering when his aunt had asked him to allow Sebastian to train her butler in the hopes of curing their all-around idiocy.

So far, it's proving to be little bit of a disaster.

Which of course left me with baby-sitting duty.

 _Oh, Ella, I'll be at friend's for the weekend, so I want you to accompany Grell to the Phantomhive Estate and keep an eye on him. You know how he gets._

At first I'd jumped at the idea; after all, it would give me the opportunity to potentially learn more about the mysterious Ciel Phantomhive and why exactly he Contracted himself with Sebastian.  
However, I've been spending way too much time running around after Grell mopping up their mess to even get a word in edgewise let alone make an inquires.

"I thought Sebastian would be the only one inconvenienced," Ciel continues, "I didn't think I'd be affected by it as well."

"Ho, ho, ho," chortles the Phantomhive steward Tanaka, who is an aged man with grey hair and moustache.

The other three servants glare at Grell, who whimpers under the looks they're giving them, "I'm terribly sorry. I don't know how I can atone."

I scowl, stalking over and socking them hard in the side of the head.

"Ow! Elly!" the butler whines, gripping their head pathetically.

"You idiot!" I exclaims, yanking them up by the ear and tugging them off to the side. "I would think someone of your caliber would at least be able to do a decent job at _something_ , but you are complete dunce!"

"Elly, not so hard," Grell complains, twisting in my grip.

I yank them closer, "Need I remind you that I can kill you with so much as a glance?"

Grell's eyes suddenly brighten, "Wait! That's it," Before I can react, they lunge forward and snatch a carving knife from amidst the pile on the floor. "The only thing I can do now is die," Grell exclaims dramatically as they drop to their knees and holds the knife to their throat. "I shall atone with my death!"

"Whoa, calm down a second!" Baldroy cries.

"Grell!" I snap.

However, Grell ignores both of us, the knife inches from their neck. That is until Sebastian steps forward and places a hand on their shoulder, "There is no need for that."

Grell's eyes widen, lowering the knife as they turn to face the other butler.

Sebastian flashes them another of his charmingly fake smiles, "Just think of the horrible mess you'd make; it'd take hours to mop up all the blood."

Grell's face goes as red as a beet: the same color is always turns if Sebastian so much as looks at them. "Thank you, Sebastian," they exclaim, clasping their hands and looking up at him with a starry-eyed gaze. "You're so very kind."

Although they don't notice, I'm glaring at them. _Grell, I thought we talked about this._

Finny, Mey-Rin, and Baldroy all regard one another with looks of bemusement.

"That was kindness?" Baldroy whispers through his cigarette.

The other two shake their heads in agreement.

"Now, what I'd like to know is how you could ever think to serve the master such weak tea," Sebastian continues, plucking the now empty tea pot off the floor. "Watch me," he adds, fetching a fresh pot and a box of tea from the cabinet in the corner.  
"A spoonful for each person and one more for the pot," Sebastian explains as ladles the crushed leaves into the pot and then adds the steaming water, "Finally, add half a pint of boiling water and let it steam until dark."

Everyone watches in awe while I stand in the corner and continue to shoot daggers at Grell.  
"Master, are you ready?" Sebastian then asks as he serves Ciel his tea. "It's almost time to leave, and I have the carriage waiting."

Oh, that's right. Sebastian had mentioned he and the young lord had an appointment in the city to pick up a new walking stick as Finny had somehow snapped the old one in two.  
They'd be gone at least a few hours leaving us servants up to our own devices.

Oh Goody.

"Fine," Ciel declares impassively; his face remaining placid, but I can tell he's still annoyed.

"As for the rest of you," Sebastian turns to us. "I want this place absolutely spotless by the time we return."

The other three snap to attention and nod astutely; I cross my arms and try not to look too disinterested.

"Grell," Sebastian adds to them, "Why don't you just rest there, so you don't cause any more trouble. And if you do decide to seek your 'eternal rest', would you please take care of it outside so as not to make too big a mess?"

"What generosity…What kindness," Grell exclaims, following Sebastian's every move as he escorts the Earl out of the room.

I cuff him in the side of the head. "Stop it!"

"God, look at this mess," Baldroy grumbles, ruffling his hair as he gazes around at the spilled plates and cutlery littering the food-stained carpet. "This is gonna take forever to clean up."

"Well," I declare, clapping my hand together, "I suppose we should get started."

* * *

Once we'd gotten the disaster in the dining room cleaned up, we all moved outside. Although it was a temperate spring day with not a cloud in the sky and a pleasant breeze ruffling the hedges, we were outside to work and works what we did.

While Finny, Mey-Rin, and I pull weeds, Grell helps Baldroy trim the aforementioned bushes.

"Such wonderful grounds," Grell muses as they snips away. "The Phantomhive family has long since been in charge of the Funtom Company, if I'm not mistaken. Said establishment has grown considerably in the last three years, and this estate testifies to the company's prosperity."

They glance wistfully at the manor as they speak. No longer darkened by the afternoon shadows as it had been on our last visit, I have to agree that the manor was a rather pleasant display.  
"The manor is magnificent; don't you think, Elly?"

"It's not bad," I reply with a shrug.

Baldroy, who is sitting on the grass beside us taking a cigarette break, suddenly speaks up, "You know it's only been around for about two years now."

"What? But it looks so stately and dignified," Grell exclaims.

I think so too. From a first impression, it seems like the manor has always been there as though it has become a part of the landscape it rests upon.

"Of course it does, that was the intention."  
Grell shrieks and whirls around, nearly dropping the hedge clippers on my head, to see Tanaka standing directly behind him.

My eyes widen as I look the steward up and down.

"This manor was built with the intention of it being an exact replica to the previous one," Tanaka explains, "It is identical in every single detail: from the windowpanes to the stairways to the cracks in the pillars."

I arch an eyebrow at the display.

I had thought Tanaka wasn't capable of any speech other than giggling in the corner like some senile old twit.

"Identical? Why is that?" Grell inquires.

"The original Phantomhive manor burned down nearly three years ago," Tanaka replies gravely. "The entire estate was engulfed in flames. It was a great tragedy."

"Oh…" Grell's voice trails off. "Oh, I see."

"Forgive me for asking," I interject, "But Master Ciel's parents, did they…?"

"Yes," Tanaka answers grimly, "Sadly, they both perished in the fire."

"Oh, how terrible. That poor boy," Grell wails as they go back to his trimming.

Suddenly, Mey Rin screams.

"Ugh. What is it now?" I snap, straightening up.

The young maid doesn't respond, just points with a trembling hand towards the hedges.

I follow her gaze, and my mouth falls open in spite of myself.  
All of them…Every single hedge on every patch of land on the Phantomhive grounds had been painstakingly snipped into the shape of a skull.

Grell sees us all looking at their handiwork and whirls around to reexamine it.  
They shriek, toppling backwards into the dirt.

"Grell, I swear on all that is holy, I'm going to strangle you with your own tongue!" I thunder as the simpering butler cowers with rage behind one of gaudy hedges.

"Why are the all skulls?" Finny whispers.

"What in God's name is the Earl Phantomhive supposed to do with a garden full of skulls? Recite Hamlet?" I demand.

"I'm sorry, Elly. It was an accident, really," Grell insists.

"An accident?" I scoff, "How could such meticulous handiwork possibly be an accident?"

Grell perks up, "You think my work is impressive?"

"Shut up!" I snarl.

Grell wilts. "You're right. I've made another terrible mistake." They sob as they rush past me and over to a tree with a step ladder standing beside it. "I can't go on any longer!" they cry as they throw a rope around their neck and prepare to dangle from the nearest branch.

"Quite trying to die," Baldroy exclaims, attempting to pull Grell down from the ladder.

"Grell Sutcliff, I am two seconds away from lighting you on fire, and I mean that. Now stop the theatrics and fix this."

Grell suddenly chokes, gasping as they struggle for breath.

I gape in shock. Don't tell me the idiot actually hung themselves.

I then notice the ladder has been yanked away from under Grell, which has caused their sporadic asphyxiation.

The person responsible appears to be a young girl standing beside the tree. She has pink cheeks and a round face that is currently split in half by a disgustingly adorable smile. Her baby blue eyes sparkle and her curled blonde pig tails bounce along with the ruffles of her dress as she rushes towards us.

Despite the appearance of this apparently harmless little girl, the three Phantomhive servants look positively terrified.

"Hello, everyone. Guess who dropped by for a surprise visit!"

"Oh no," Finny whimpers.

"Not her," Baldroy exclaims.

"What are you on about?" I demands.

He doesn't answer, just grabs my hand and yanks me back. "Run!"

* * *

Had I known the terror that seemingly innocent child would mere moments later inflict upon all those present I would have dragged her down into the ninth circle of Hell without a moment's hesitation.

And I mean that.

"Oh, come here you pretty thing. Why are you struggling?" the girl sang out as I scramble from the room, draped in a hot pink boa with a gigantic floppy pink feather hat resting on my head. "I'm just trying to make you cuter," the girl sings out as she chases after me with a fistful of curlers.

The girl has basically taken over the entire place in a manner of minutes. Now there are sparkly stars hanging from the ceiling, baby blue bunnies and bright pink lambs littering the floors, glitter sprayed everywhere, streamers draping from every corner and crevice, stuffed animals spilled across the hallways and balloons bobbing through the air.

The girl has also managed to wrestle a pair rabbit ears onto Finny and a maid bonnet onto Baldory. Mey-Rin has somehow managed to avoid capture, but the girl is not deterred as she chases us all down the hall.

I stumble along, tripping over the overly long boa. I blow a pink feather out of my face as I burst into the main hall, the other three close behind me.

This is utterly humiliating. Thank God, Sebastian isn't-

 _SMACK_

"Ella? What are you doing?"

Of course.

I glance up from running into Sebastian's chest to see said butler standing over me, Ciel by his side with his new walking stick in hand. Judging from his expression at seeing the state of his house, I'm getting the impression he's thinking of using it on someone.

"What is going on here?" Sebastian demands. "And why on earth are you all dressed like lunatics."

"Help us, Sebastian," Finny wails, dropping to his knees and gripping Sebastian's coat.

"She's crazy!" Baldroy adds.

"I'll kill her," I declare, stamping my foot. "I'll burn her to a cinder."

"Who's crazy?" Ciel demands.

Before anyone can respond, we hear a very familiar choking noise coming from down the hall.

Ciel and Sebastian both go to investigate, I follow along with the others. We enter the salon, which is also decorated in all manner of pink, light blue and yellow disgustingness, to find Grell hanging in the middle of the room, a rope around their neck and several bright yellow ribbons tied in their hair.

As they dangled there, I can't help but be reminded of some kind of oversized Christmas ornament.

Ciel gapes at the display, "What are you doing now?" he demands.

"At the moment, I'm in the process of dying, Master Ciel," Grell chokes in response.

Ciel sighs. "Sebastian, get him down."

"Yes, sir."

He walks over in an attempt to release Grell, but is interrupted when a tornado of orange and yellow whips past him with a high-pitched exclamation of "Ciel!"

The girl from before tackles the young Earl in a crushing hug, sending his top hat and new cane flying across the room.

"Ciel, you're back. I missed you so much," the girl cries, squeezing him so tightly I half expected his head to explode.

"Elizabeth, what a…surprise," Ciel gasps.

The girl releases him, "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Lizzy," she chides before scooping him up into another bone-crushing embrace. "Oh you're just the cutest, aren't you, darling boy. Oh, I could just eat you up!"

I stand off to the side, watching the display.

What the hell is going on?

"Lady Elizabeth?" Sebastian interrupts the assault on Ciels' poor little body, striding over as he drags Grell along by the scruff of his neck.

"Oh, hello, Sebastian. How are you?" the girl, 'Lizzy' apparently, exclaims, curtseying politely. She then notices Grell, "Oh? You took him down?"

"Yes, he detracted from the beauty of the room," Sebastian explains, his smile more forced than ever.

Lizzy seems almost offended. "Aw, but I made such a lovely decoration out of him."

Sebastian looks confused. "A…decoration?"

"Yes, just look at it all," Lizzy exclaims, spreading her arms wide. "Isn't the salon so cute now?"

"Ugh, my mansion," Ciel grumbles forlornly. "It's so pink."

"From now on, only the cutest things are allowed in the Phantomhive manor," Lizzy declares, "Isn't that right, Antoinette?"

'Antoinette' turned out to be Tanaka in a curly blonde wig.

"Ho, ho, ho."

"Oh… and Tanaka." I can see Sebastian beginning to lose his patience.

"And I have a present for you too," Lizzy adds.

"Oh?"

"Here!" Lizzy then yanks a gigantic bubblegum pink bonnet adorned with daisies and buttercups onto Sebastian's neat black head.

The contrast is quite off putting.

"You're always dressed in black, I thought this would be a nice change," Lizzy explains while Finny, Mey-Rin, and Baldroy all snigger into their hands.

Sebastian shots them a look that could have frozen water in July, and they all quickly fall silent.

But I can't help it; the glare doesn't deter me, and I burst out laughing.

"Good Lord, look at you," I exclaim through peals of giggles, gripping my side as I snort into my hand. "That's a sight for sore eyes. I mean, I look like a flamingo, but you look positively ridiculous." I buckle over and howl with laughter, my hat slipping in my eyes.

Sebastian sighs, "Must you?"

Although he appears outwardly calm, I can tell that Abaddon is about two seconds away from completely losing it, and believe me, _no one_ wants to see that.

 _I'm going to kill you,_ he says with his eyes.

I smirk back. _I'd like to see you try._

"What do you think?" Lizzy asks Sebastian. "Do like it?"

Sebastian takes a deep breath. "I am deeply honored that you would go so far for a humble servant. Your generosity overwhelms me," he replies, bowing deeply.

"Happy to help," Lizzy exclaims cheerfully.

"In any event, Lizzy," Ciel interjects. "What are you doing here? Auntie wouldn't let you come alone."

"I snuck away because I wanted to see you, silly," the girl replies simply before tightly squeezing Ciel again.

"You snuck away?" the young lord cries, his cheek smashed against Lizzy's. "Don't you think you'll get into trouble?"

"Sebastian, who is this girl?" Grell, who seems to have recovered, asks as they adjust their glasses.

"She is the daughter of the Marquis of Scotney," Sebastian replies lavishly, "Her full Christian name is Lady Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford of Scotney."

"Scotney Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia," Grell stumbles over trying to repeat the ridiculously long name.

"She is also my young master's betrothed of several years."

I gape at Sebastian in spite of myself, glancing back over to Ciel and Lizzy, whom I'm convinced is trying to break the former's spine. "Master Ciel is going to marry _her_?"

Talk about night and day.

"Lady Elizabeth is the daughter of Marquis," Sebastian explains to me, "Nobles marry other nobles. That's how it works; you should know that, Ella?" he adds to me.

I scowl at him, but I can't really take him seriously in that hat.

"Oh! I know," Lizzy exclaims, clapping her hands together, "Since the manor is decorated so prettily, we should have a ball tonight. You can be my escort, and we'll dance around all night long," she adds, grabbing Ciel's hand and jerking him around in a circle.

"A ball?" the boy stutters, obviously flustered, "No!"

However, his protests fall on deaf ears, "You'll wear the clothes I picked out for you, right? Pretty please! They'll look so cute on you," she pleads as Ciel shifts uncomfortably.

"Listen. I don't want-"

"And of course I'll be dressed to the nines as well," Lizzy continues, twirling about the room.

 _What an interesting display_ , I muse to myself. _I didn't think anything could faze that boy_.

"You come with me," Lizzy suddenly cries, rushing up to Grell. "I'm going to make you even cuter than before."

Before they can respond, she grabs the rope still dangling from their neck and jerks them down the hall, giggling all the way.

"Wait! I said no ball," Ciel shouts after her, but she doesn't pay him any heed.

I groan. I'm probably going to have to suffer through this now as well. I swear if I wasn't incognito, I'd burn down this house and everyone in it.

* * *

So here I am. One of the most important Demons in all the Sheol and the Nine Realms of Hell dressed in a frilly pink ball gown littered with swollen red roses and yards and yard of itchy lace, my ash blonde hair curled up into a twist and feeling like I want to sink into the floor and disappear.

I watch dejectedly as Grell examines their reflection in the full length mirror.

"How awful!" they wail, practically weeping at the sight of their reflection dressed in a pure white gown that is all ribbons and bows complete with a matching headband.

"I think you're going to have to make peace with it," Baldroy declares, resting his hand on Grell's shoulder. The house cook stands there looking quite odd with his daily scruff paired with a pink school girl's outfit and curly red wig.

"It's atrocious. So white and girly and frilly," Grell continues to whine. "If I have to dress up why can't it be in a sexy shade of red with a waist line that accentuates my figure?" They exclaim, clasping their hands longingly.

"That's your problem with it?" Bard cries.

I roll my eyes. _You have no idea._

"I can't live with a shame as deep as this," Grell cries. "No, I'd rather die." They then go and make as though their about to jump out the window, but pause when they realize no one's rushing after him.

Not even me as I stand here glaring pointedly at them.

"Y-You're aren't going to try and stop me?" Grell asks quietly.

"Nah. Go ahead, I'm done with you," I reply, waving my hand dismissively, "Bash your brains in for all I care."

Grell's lower lip trembles. "Oh, Elly; you're so cruel."

I sigh, exchanging a glance with Finny, who's wearing a black cat costume complete with ears, a tail, and furry mittens, and Tanaka, who's wearing a purple kimono and a silky black wig.

"Blue is definitely Ciel's color. It will look so good on him," Lizzy is saying across the room where Mey-Rin is helping her lace up the elaborate red and pink trimmed ball gown. "You should see the clothes I bought for him; I got them today in London. They're great; he'll look simply dashing. Now, time to get you dressed up," the girl adds as Mey-Rin finishes tending to her. "I'll make you look so adorable!" she cries, reaching for the maid's glasses.

The other girl gasps, jumping back. "I'm terribly far-sighted; I can't see a thing without me glasses, m'lady."

"You don't have to see at a ball to have fun," Lizzy insists. "Now hand them over."

"What balls have you been too?" I scoff.

"No, no. No! Please," Mey-Rin begs, struggling as Lizzy tries to pry the spectacles from her face.

"Leave her alone, Lizzy," Ciel's commanding voice booms from the top of the staircase. Everyone glances up to see the young Earl has changed into an elegant royal blue outfit with a ruffled cream trim at the cuffs and throat and a blue-and-white-striped hat perched on his head.

Sebastian stands at his side, his constant shadow, with the walking stick in hand.

"Ciel!" Lizzy squeals, "You look adorable!" She then rushes forward and grabs hold of her fiancée, spinning the poor boy round and round like a top. "This outfit is absolutely perfect!" she exclaims as Ciel holds on for dear life.

However, the girl's cheerful mood suddenly evaporates when she catches sight of the large blue ring the Earl is wearing on his thumb.

"Ciel, why aren't you wearing the ring I bought you?" Lizzy whispers, her voice instantly taking on a darker tone, "It matches your clothing perfectly. Now where did it go?"

"The ring I already have on will work," Ciel asserts.

"No! I went to so much trouble, and that ring isn't cute at all!" Lizzy cries, stamping her foot and waving her arms. "Waaaahhh! Why wouldn't you wear the ring I picked out especially for you? You're so cruel," the girl sobs as she fell to her knees.

"Goodness, humans are so dramatic! Especially the females," Grell whispers to me.

"You're one to talk," I shoot back.

"I just want everything to be perfect for our lovely ball, and you ruined it," Lizzy continues to weep, burying her face in her hands.

"That's not what I meant," Ciel insists, walking over to her. "Lizzy, this ring is-"

However, he is cut short as the girl suddenly jumps to her feet.  
"Just kidding," she exclaims, her tears intently vanishing as she lunges forward and snatches the ring off the young Earl's finger. "Fooled you! It's mine now," she cries, dancing away.

"Lizzy," Ciel starts.

"This is far too big for you," the girl adds, ignoring him as she examines the ring more closely, "The ring I bought you will work so much better, so go put it on."

"Give it back!" Ciel snarls.

Now Lizzy heard that.  
She freezes, blinking in shock at the look Ciel is giving her. He was regarding her with an expression of barely contained rage.

"Give. Me. That. Ring," Ciel whispers, holding out his hand. "Now, Elizabeth."

Lizzy whimpers. "Why are you so angry at me? I just…wanted…"

Ciel grits his teeth, his lips curling into a snarl. Lizzy takes a step back. "What's wrong? I just wanted to make everything adorable, that's all. So…WHY ARE YOU SO ANGRY?" her voice rises to a shriek as she raises her hand above her head. "I HATE THIS RING! TAKE IT"

 _CRASH!_

The sound of shattering metal and stone echoes throughout the main entryway as Lizzy hurls the ring at the floor between her and Ciel.  
The blue stone set in the carved metal shatters like glass, and the band snaps as it collides with the floor.

Ciel stares in shock as ring splinters before his eyes, then his face fills with a rage I have never seen on a child so young before.

I watch, speechless, as Ciel rushes forward, hand purposefully raised.

Is he going to strike her?

Lizzy staggers back, cowering as Ciel looms over her.

But Sebastian is there.

He snatches his arm at the wrist, causing the boy to freeze and jerk his head to look at him.

"Master," the butler says pointedly, "You forgot the walking stick we went to so much trouble to get," he adds, placing said cane into Ciel's hand that he had originally intended to strike his fiancée with.

The boy grasps the stick, breathing heavily. All the while, never taking his eyes off the shattered ring on the floor.

There is a heavy silence as I and the rest of servants all watch dumbstruck. Lizzy buries her face in her hands and sobs, real tears this time.

Sebastian walks over to her. "Forgive my master, Lady Elizabeth, but that ring was something very important to him," he explains calmly. "It's a precious heirloom passed down through the head of the Phantomhive family. He's grown quite attached to it; it's truly one of a kind."

Lizzy gasps, her tear-filled eyes wide with realization.

I hardly notice, however; my eyes are still fixed on Ciel. That anger…I had never seen anything like it on a human's face, and I'd seen many things in my overly long life.

"Please try to understand why this upset him," Sebastian continues.

"It-It was that important," Lizzy chokes, tears streaming down her cheeks. "And I destroyed it?"

She looks over as Ciel bends down and picks up the remains of the Phantomhive ring.

Everyone watches, not saying a word as the boy strides over to the window, walking stick in hand.

"Ciel, please, I…" Lizzy starts, but the boy ignores her.

Without a word, he tosses the ring out of the open window where it vanishes into the grass.

Everyone gasps in shock, even I raise an eyebrow. An heirloom, supposedly so precious…Why would he throw it away? Humans were inherently so attached to material possessions, especially children.

 _This boy…_

"Ciel, wait! What are you doing?" Lizzy cries, rushing to the window.

"It doesn't matter," Ciel replies coldly, "It was nothing but an old ring, after all. Even without it, I'm still the head of the Phantomhive, and that won't change." He declares, standing there with a look in his one eye that simply radiated power and control.

All eyes are on him; he is simply mesmerizing.

My gaze drifts to Sebastian after a moment, and I can see the hunger in his eyes.

 _I see why Sebastian made a deal with this boy. This soul…it's absolutely tantalizing and utterly unique._

"How long are you going to cry?" Ciel asks Lizzy, who is still weeping quietly.

She glances up as he approaches her, "I-I'm so sorry," she whispers.

"You're face is a mess," Ciel declares, reaching into his pocket and producing a handkerchief. "Completely unsuitable for a lady," he adds, wiping her eyes. "How can I possibly ask a lady with a runny nose and puffy eyes to dance?"

Lizzy sniffs heavily, "To dance?"

Ciel smiles.

Just then a sudden music fills the air. I redirect my attention to the top of the stairs to see Sebastian is animatedly strumming away at the violin.

Everyone gasps in wonder as he stands there, almost as captivating as his master in his grace and elegance, such beautiful, chilling tunes wafting up from under his fingertips.

"He's incredible," Mey-Rin exclaims.

"He plays the violin? Is there nothing he can't do?" Finny adds.

I don't answer as I watch Sebastian, watching the passion radiate from his body as he continues to play. Such a meager activity for such a burning brilliance; I remember a time when that passion was put to better use upon the battlefield.

"I'll join in," Grell exclaims, rushing forward.

Mey-Rin, Finny, and Baldroy gape in shock as Grell stands by the stairs, clasps their hands, and then their operatic voice mixes with Sebsatian's music.

"He can actually _sing_?" Baldroy cries.

I laugh, "Yeah, he actually can."

Meanwhile, Ciel holds his hand to Lizzy. "So then are we agreed? We'll forget our cares and dance the night away."

Lizzy's face breaks into a wide grin. Rosy cheeked, she accepts Ciel's offer and the two move out onto the dance floor, spinning and twirling about.

Red and blue swirling together through the rhythm of their movements, a kind of shine to their figures that only mortals seem to possess as Sebastian and Grell's music flows around us all.

I feel it move through my body, and I can't help the memories resurfacing in my mind.

"Abby," I whisper, my eyes never leaving Sebastian.

"So, how do you know Sebastian?" Mey-Rin asks.

I jump. "Pardon?"

"Oh, come on. You two carry on like you know one another, so how'd ya met him?" the maid inquires.

"Oh, well I never really met him anywhere; I've just always known him."

"You come from the same place, don't you?" Finny asks.

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. It's just you've got the same way about you. You carry yourselves the same."

Dear me, these people are smarter than I gave them credit for.

"So, what was he like?" Baldroy inquires.

"Why do you care?" I ask him.

"We're curious," Finny explains, "Sebastian never talks about his life before he was employed here. We don't know anything about him."

 _You don't really want to know._

"There's not really much to tell. Sebastian and I…we worked together for a long time and then we had a falling out…of sorts a while back, and well, this is the first time I've laid eyes on him in a long while."

"What sort of falling out?" Baldroy asks.

"Better you don't know," I replies quietly.

"What was the place like where you were before?" Finny asks.

"Same as any other…a bit hot."

"Oh, Elly, stop standing around," Grell exclaims, rushing forward and jerking me away from the others. "Come and dance!"

"Grell, wait! I-" But they don't listen as I'm pulled onto the dance floor. Grell twirls me 'round, their white skirt flouncing out around them like flower petals.

I'd imagine the gaudy pink thing I'm wearing probably looks similar.

As we spin around Ciel and Lizzy dancing together, I thought I caught the faintest glimpse of Sebastian looking at me out of the corner of my eye.

Eventually, Lizzy grew tired of simply dancing, declaring she wanted to play the piano and insists that Finny drag said instrument into the main entryway.

To my surprise, the girl actually manages to create a surprisingly good piece of music, lilting away from her tiny fingers. Of course, it is nowhere near as good as Sebastian's but not entirely unpleasant.

Grell laughs at the upbeat tune the girl plays, picking me up at the waist and spinning me around. I cringe slightly in embarrassment but allow him to spin me around the room that is until he throws me a little too hard.

I land rather awkwardly, stumbling slightly as my left ankle caves. I scowl at Grell as I stagger to regain my footing; from behind me, someone takes my hand, steadying me.

I whirl around to see Sebastian standing there. He smiles at me, and I'm alarmed to see it is not in the least bit fake.

"May I have this dance, Ms. Desdemona?"

I gawk at him, "What are you-?"

He doesn't give me time to respond as he takes my hands and spins me around on the spot. In my surprise, I'm slightly awkward, but quickly manage to regain my bearings.

I grip Sebastian tightly and pull him closer, "What do you say we show these people how they do it at the Schonbrunn Palace in Vienna?"

Sebastian smiles slyly before he picks me up and twirls me around the air with far more grace than Grell could ever manage.

The other servants watch us, mesmerized; even Ciel looks surprised as we move our way around the otherwise empty dance floor.

It has been a long time since I've done something like this with Abaddon, but I find that it doesn't take long for me to get back into it. The familiarity between us of thousands of years together flows between our bodies as we spin and twirl, our bodies colliding then breaking apart, never faltering a single step.

For a mere moment, I forget about his betrayal, about his rejection of the order, about him leaving me, about all those years spent without him at my side.

I gasp quietly as Sebastian dips me, holding me suspended above the ground. He leans in close to me, the strands of his silky black hair tickling my face. He's breathing heavily, surprisingly winded from the exertion and I soon realize I am too. My heart hammers in my chest as I glance up at him, leaning in so that our noses are practically touching.

 _Grell's right: he is beautiful._

I blink, snapping myself out of my reverie and suddenly everything that had happened between which I'd momentarily forgotten comes rushing back.

"Well!" I exclaim loudly, quickly unlocking myself from Sebastian's embrace and stepping back. "I think that's quite enough of that."

I turn at the sound of the others clapping.  
"That was incredible!" Finny exclaims brightly as I walk back over.

"You're a really good dancer," Baldroy adds, grinning at me.

I flash him a forced smile before I notice Mey-Rin is looking at me with a rather knowing smirk.

"What?" I demand.

"Oh I think I know _exactly_ how you and Sebastian were before all this," she declares smugly.

I blink in confusion, "Huh?"

* * *

The music all bleeds together, like colors mixing in a wet painting; as the day faded into the night, the 'ball' continued, a tiny speck of light in the otherwise dark mortal world.  
Ciel was right in saying one could 'forget their cares'.

However, it couldn't last forever. Eventually, Lizzy became so tired from all the dancing and piano playing that she could hardly stand up.

Grell and I help her to the carriage we'd arrive in, both of us having changed out of the 'cute' clothes and back into our suits.

The tiny girl curls up on the seat, sound asleep in seconds.

Grell turns to the others, who had followed us outside.

"We'll make sure she gets home safely," they declare.

"Yeah, you can count on us," I add, climbing into the driver's seat, Grell clambering after me.

As I gather up the reins and the other servants wave goodbye, I catch a glimpse of Ciel Phantomhive staring at me intently. I return the gaze to see he's tightly clasping his thumb where, to my surprise, the Phantomhive family ring is one again resting.

Sebastian must have retrieved and repaired it.

So, was that all just talk? That display of power, of dominance…What a most interesting little boy.

I grin at Ciel, my sharpened incisors glinting in the setting sun as I crack the reins, and the carriage starts off.

My smile never falters as Grell and I drive off, my yellow eye shining brightly as my curiosity intensifies.

 _What fun._

You had garnered my interest, Ciel Phantomhive, but now you have my attention.

* * *

A/N: A shorter chapter, but Ella's role with continue to increase as the story progresses. I hope you enjoyed ;).


	4. Chapter 3: Mask

Chapter 3: Mask

* * *

I stand in the back yard of Madame Red's lavish estate. Clumps of grey snow gather around my ankles, mixing with the black mud and piles of shriveled leaves. I drag a rake through the latter, muttering an ancient incantation under my breath as I mull over recent events.

It has been several months since my last visit to the Phantomhive Estate; winter has come and gone, and I haven't heard a thing from the manor since the day of Lady Elizabeth's 'ball'.

This factor makes me more than a little bit anxious. I am eager to learn more about the elusive young noble known as Ciel Phantomhive as well as keep an eye on Abaddon or 'Sebastian' rather.

However, in this shape, I am but a servant, and it isn't like I can put in a request to my mistress without seeming overtly suspicious.

I stiffen when a twig suddenly snaps behind me. I whirl around, yellow eyes blazing in the half-light, as I raise my rake above my waist, holding it like a spear.

"Who's there?" I hiss into the darkness of the trees lining the back of the yard.

"A friend," a deep, gravelly voice replies.

I relax, instantly recognizing the speaker as I lower the rake and instead fix the patch of shadows the voice had come from with a sour expression. "What are you doing here? Discretion was the purpose of this mission, and you being here could very well give me away."

"I just wanted to ensure you were getting along fine, Master," the voice replies simply.

I glare in its direction. "Well, as you can see, I _am_ fine. Or at least I should be: I'm taking a big risk coming here, and I don't need you jeopardizing it, Wrath."

"Forgive me, Master," Wrath replies humbly, "But my offer still stands. Allow me to complete this mission for you."

I sigh dramatically. "If it were that easy, believe me, I would, but the importance of this matter is paramount. Why do you think I decided to come here myself instead of sending one of the weaker brood? If it were discovered, even amongst the Sheol, what I was looking for the consequences could be disastrous."

"What are you trying to imply?" Wrath inquires, an edge to his voice.

"Nothing of the sort," I snap instantly, "The Demon Lord's control over the Realm of Darkness remains steadfast. However, fulfilling my mission must remain under wraps. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Wrath replies. "So, any progress?" he adds after a pause.

I drop my eyes. "Not as much as I'd hoped: the nobles of London are steeped deep in our influence, however, Hellfire remains elusive, but then there's this boy…" I trail off, my thoughts once again returning to Ciel Phantomhive.

"A boy?"

"Yes, a child of the Phantomhive line and the nephew of my guise's mistress. He is a most interesting case; the circumstances revolving around his creation are far too great to be a coincidence."

"Then why don't you go get him?"

"Don't you think I've tried?" I spat, "He's Contracted."

"With whom?" Wrath exclaims with a gasp. "No one would dare defy….Oh," he trails off as realization dawns on him. "Abaddon."

"Yes, fine time for him to show up again," I declare, my voice ripe with bitter sarcasm.

"Shall I take care of him?" Wrath's voice is low, and the shadows surrounding him almost seen to darken.

I smile wryly. "For the moment, no. We must remember, only the Inner Circle is aware of what dear Abby is truly capable of, and I'd like it to stay that way. I don't want to cause a scene."

"Understood," Wrath relents.

"Good," I commend.

Suddenly, Wrath let's out a low, guttural growl. I turn in response to see my mistress step out onto the back porch.  
"Ella? Are you almost finished?"

"Yes, madam," I quickly call back.

"Good. When you're done, I want you to help Grell get the carriage ready," Madame Red orders before disappearing back inside.

"What was that?" Wrath snarls.

"English nobility," I reply bitterly.

"I'd like to tear her throat out."

"I'm touched, but that really isn't necessary," I reply. "After all, she is my link to the Underworld of England's upper class."

Wrath growls again, obviously displeased.

"I wouldn't be so rash," I rebuke. "After all, it has been several centuries since Grendel last walked the Earth, I hardly think these people are ready for it now."

Wrath snorts. "You know I don't like to be called that."

"Perhaps it's time you take your leave," I say pointedly.

Eventually, the Demon of Fury relents. "Very well. Good day, Master," he calls before vanishing fully into the darkness.

"Tsk, tsk," I chide as I go back to raking the leaves.

* * *

"You seem in far too good a mood for this," Grell grumbles nervously.

I glance up from the reins and give them a curious look. "What makes you say that?"

"You're _humming,_ " Grell exclaims.

"So? I do that sometimes," I retort sharply before cracking the reins and making the horse move faster through London's cramped streets.

My attire is only halfway masculine today, just enough to permit me to drive. A long dark coat cover my scarlet dress, apron, and high-heeled boots and my ash-blonde hair is swept under my top hat.

However, my fellow servant's observations are not exactly far from the truth: I did become rather excited when Madame Red informed us that we would be heading to the winter estate of none other than Ciel Phantomhive.

Apparently, he and his butler would be coming into the city for a few weeks to spend some time away from the country, as was the custom of the nobles in the region. I couldn't have asked for anything better: Ciel and Sebastian, right here in London, practically handed to me on a silver platter.

"Why do you suppose Ciel's decided to come to London?" Grell inquires. "I mean, it is a little late: the season's almost over."

I purse my lips. "True. I had heard from Madame Red that he didn't plan on coming at all."

"What do you think could have changed his mind?" Grell whispers.

I give him a sideways glance. "Who knows? However, what do you plan on doing about _that_?" I jerk behind me with my head in reference to Madame Red sitting in the carriage, shielded from the cold.

"What do you mean?" Grell demands defensively.

I scowl. "I'm not stupid, you know."

The butler wilts in their seat.

"You have been slacking in your duties, Grell," I remark as I urge the horses still faster as though trying to outrun the chill. "Don't you think someone will notice?"

Grell snorts. "It's better than working as a slave to the paperwork, all those numbers and letters lined up in a row. It's horrid! I needed to have a little fun."

I smile, empathizing with the sentiment.

However, we aren't able to talk further as, at that moment, the London home of Ciel Phantomhive came into view. As I slow the horses down from their frantic pace, I spy a dark green coach parked in front of the manor.

At first, I think it might belong to Ciel, but further inspection allows me to notice the familiar figure of Lau, decked out in his deep emerald robes, exiting the coach.

He turns and waves an overly long sleeve as I pull up our own carriage behind his.

"Good morning, m'lady," the Chinese man calls.

"Lau, how lovely to see you again," my mistress replies, exiting the carriage.

Lau nods, bowing deeply. "It is indeed a pleasure."  
He looks up, a sly smile on his lips as Grell and I jump down from the carriage. "And I see you've brought your lovely servants along," he adds, winking at me.

I try to keep my fury at bay as Grell takes my hand and leads me up the manor steps after Lau and Madame Red.

"The young lord is not here yet," the former notes as we reach the top of the steps.

"Indeed, his carriage is nowhere around," Madame Red observes. "However, I'm sure he won't object to his beloved aunt letting herself in." With that, she produces a spare key from the folds of her scarlet skirt and unlocks the door.

The inside of the manor is dimly lit and rather musty. Grell sneezes loudly as we cross the threshold.

"It's a bit under kept," Lau notes, squinting through the gloom.

Madame Red nods grimly. "I know. This house is frightfully underused; Ciel hardly ever comes to London."

"And why is that?"

"He claims there's 'too many people in London'," Madame Red replies simply as she saunters up the stairs.

I follow, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. _What an unhappy child_.

The stairs are blanketed in a light lavender carpet with several gold framed portraits of rather imposing figures lining the walls

My mistress enters the parlor, Lau, Grell, and I following her. The room is small, much smaller than the one at Madame Red's, but it is not at all unpleasant.  
The walls are milk white, as is the fireplace. A jade green couch sits in the middle of the room with a coffee table before it. The windows are large, filling the entire back wall, and a narrow bookcase brimming with dozens of volumes sits in the corner. Madame Red throws open the curtains to allow some of the grey, late-winter light to spill into the space, instantly brightening up the room.

"Ah, much better," Lau declares, settling on the couch.

"Yes, indeed," Madame Red agrees, gazing about the room with her hands on her hips. "Ella," she turns to me, "Why don't you make us some tea."

I nod, bowing slightly. "Yes, m'lady."

I then head back downstairs into the kitchen, Grell stumbling along after me.

"You don't think I'll get in trouble, do you, Elly?" they call quietly as we reach the ground floor and turn into the kitchen.

"If you're referring to what we talked about earlier then yes," I reply simply as I pull off my coat, winter gloves and hat, setting them on a coat rack and then begin riffling through the cabinet in search of the tea, tugging on my white maid cap to cover my hair as I do so.

"Oh, but what's the harm in having a little fun?" Grell whines as I frown in frustration at the frightfully understocked cabinets, not really listening to their lament. "I am a creature of death, after all. Why shouldn't I relish in the beauty of it? In the fury and the intensity of life carving out life, grasping it in their fist and spilling that red all across the cobblestones? Oh, that red, that rich, burning red."

"Grell? Would you please stop trying to write poetry and help me to locate the tea?" I demand in frustration. "I can't seem to find it anywhere."

The butler blinks, embarrassed. "Uh, right. Sorry."

* * *

However, after several minutes of rifling through every inch of closed space in the kitchen, I can fairly deduce that the cooking space is completely tea-less.

"I suppose we shouldn't expect a location as ill-used as this to have any common household items," I declare with a sigh before we both trudge back upstairs to inform our mistress of the lack of herbal drink.

However, the lack of tea in the kitchen does not deter her in the slightest, and she soon organizes a full blown hunt for the stuff that spanned across the entire manor.

After an hour was spent combing the mansion from top to bottom, we return to the parlor and begin tearing that space apart as well.

Grell and Madame Red pull all the books from their shelves, stacking them against the window in the hopes of finding a stray box potentially stashed behind the thick volumes.

I fumble about around the fireplace, reaching about behind photographs and other items laid out on the mantel.

At one point, my arm bumps one particular framed picture, knocking it from its perch. My arm lashes out and catches said picture before it can crash to the floor.

I raise it back up to my face, eyeing it curiously. I see that it is a picture of a young boy with jet black hair and robin's egg blue eyes, who I can only assume is Ciel at a much earlier date. He is sitting on the lap of a woman in a light blue dress. She has a kind, plain face with light brown hair swept up in a twist. The woman, I deduce, is Ciel's mother. At her arm stands a slender man, who must be the boy's father. However as I look at him more closely, my eyes widen in shock. The former Lord Phantomhive has a familiar face, a _very_ familiar face.

The sound of a large book being hurled across the room and landing on the floor makes me jump, jerking me from my keen observation of the photo.

"For goodness sake, where do they keep the tea in this house?" Madame Red exclaims, tossing another book aside.

"I can't find it either," Lau calls from his spot in the corner where he is squatting in front of an expensive looking Chinese pot, peering keenly into it.

"Don't be silly, of course it's not in there!" Madame Red snaps at him.

At that minute, the door is thrown open, and we all whirl around to find Ciel standing on the threshold draped from head to toe in black with a cloak, top hat, and cane, looking almost as dark as Sebastian standing beside him. Both are wearing similar expressions of shock upon seeing all of us crowded in the parlor and the state it is currently in due to our hunt for the tea.

"Lau? Madame Red? What are you doing here?" Ciel demands after momentarily regaining his composure.

"Ciel, you're early, dear," my mistress exclaims, flashing too big a smile.

"You didn't answer my question," Ciel snaps pointedly.

"Well, your sudden appearance in town can only mean one thing," Lau declares, straightening up.

"Indeed, the Queen's Guard Dog has a new scent to follow," Madame Red adds.

I glance at Grell, eyes wide. _The Queen's Guard Dog?_ I mouth.

* * *

From what I can gather from the bits and pieces of conversation that transpired while Sebastian whipped up a pot of tea and a tray of cakes and sandwiches was that there was more to the Phanthomhive family than meets the eye. The large toy company _Funton's_ that had given them all their wealth turned out to only be a front. From the outset, the Phantomhive family line seemed to be a typical, well-respected nobility; however, behind the scenes, the Phantomhive head was known as the 'Queen's Guard Dog'.

The dark side of the Phantomhive family was that they were charged by the Queen of England herself to take care of heinous acts, crimes, and threats to the crown that Scotland Yard either couldn't or wouldn't deal with. They were able to use any means necessary, even break the law themselves.  
As such, they had many allies in the underworld of London, but also many enemies, which explained that incident with the Italian mob that had occurred when I had first met Ciel Phantomhive.

As Sebastian and I serve the tea, I hang on to every word that the young lord utters as he describes the circumstances of his summons to his aunt and Lau.

"He struck again: another prostitute was found brutally murdered in White Chapel," Ciel explains after taking a sip of his tea, "These killings are far from normal; the level of violence we're seeing is unprecedented."

"The most recent victim was a woman named Mary Ann Nichols," Sebastian adds as I serve pear and blackberry cornmeal cake, "And it appears a special type of blade was used on her; she was torn up beyond recognition."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Grell go very white. I shot him a pointed glare, but he ignores me, far too focused on Sebastian and Ciel as they continue to describe the killings

"The murder's most distinctive style of killing has earned him a unique nickname from the press," the latter explains.

"Jack the Ripper," I add thoughtfully.

Ciel snaps his eye towards me, surprised.

"A frightening name, eh?" Lau muses, taking a sip of his own tea.

"That's why I'm in the city," the young lord concludes. "I hurried into town to get a look at the situation myself."

Lau smirks as he sets down his glass. "But are you sure you'll be brave enough to stomach the crime scene?"

"What do you mean by that?" Ciel demands pointedly.

"The sight of the dismembered body will certainly be horrific," the Chinese man continues, getting to his feet. "And one can only imagine the _stench_ : blood and gore everywhere." As he continues to speak, Lau slowly walks around the table over to Ciel. "It's surely enough to drive some men mad? Are you certain you can handle such a thing?" He reaches forward and places a hand to Ciel's cheek, "You're just a young boy after all."

I note Lau's expression: watching Ciel like a hungry wolf, the temptation bright in his dark eyes. What a fiend: fueled by Lust.

"I am the head of the Phantomhive family, and my duty is to my queen," Ciel coolly replies. "Don't ask foolish questions."

The smile never wavers from Lau's mouth. "You're right, so sorry."

I watch the exchange with great intrigue, my eyes quickly noting the fire burning deep within that boy's eye.

* * *

The clock is just striking two as we arrive at White Chapel; the lonely chimes echo in the distance, mixing with the frightened murmurs of the small crowd that has gathered around the spot where the most recent victim of Jack the Ripper had been found.

Silently, Ciel pushes his way through the throng, Sebastian close behind him, and approaches a young detective standing beside the scene. He has ruffled red hair poking out from under a bowler hat and wide brown eyes that are staring intently at a piece of paperwork in his hand.  
He glances up when Ciel approaches.  
"Sorry, my boy," he says with a warm smile, "But a crime scene like this is no place for a child. Now, why don't you just run along home?"

Ciel doesn't even blink. "I'm here to see the victim's body."

The detective does a double-take. "The body! Surely, you're kidding me."

"Abberline," a voice call sharply, causing the young detective to whirl around in time to see an older, fiercer man with salt and pepper moustache and hair, the latter tied back with a red ribbon approach out of the shadows.

I instantly recognize him to be Sir Arthur Randall, the head of Scotland Yard. Judging by his frequenting at Madame Red's tea parties, along with Lau, I suspect he is up to his neck in these shady underworld dealings.

"Well, if it isn't Lord Phantomhive; what are you doing here?" Sir Arthur inquires of Ciel.

"You know this kid, sir?" Abberline asks.

"I'm here to help, Sir Arthur; it seems your investigation is dragging a bit," Ciel explains with a smug smile, holding up the letter he'd received from the Queen, "Her Majesty sent me, of course."

Sir Arthur's face twists into a lewd glare while Abberline gawks in complete shock.  
Impatient, Ciel takes the pile of paperwork from the latter's hand and quickly scans the pages.  
"It appears you haven't found any major clues yet," he muses.

"We of Scotland Yard are more than capable of handling this case, I assure you," Sir Arthur growls as he snatches the paper from him. "There's no need for you to interfere."

"Splendid," Ciel replies knowingly. "Shall we go, Sebastian?" he adds to the butler.

"Yes, sir."

They then turn and walk back over to where I'm standing waiting with Lau, Grell, and Madame Red.

"Now what, dear?" the latter inquires of her nephew.

"We are going to see someone who might be of use to me," he calmly replies.

Lau gasps. "My lord! You don't mean…?"

"Yes, I do."

I glance at Grell. "Where are we going?" I hiss.

"I haven't the foggiest idea," they reply.

* * *

To my surprise, our next destination turns out to be a little mortician's shop nestled in a surprisingly bright part of town. Jet black coffins line the walkway before the door and a gigantic sign rests above it with the word UNDERTAKER painted across it in black alongside a pattern of skulls.

Grell whimpers at the sight of the shadowed little store; I raise a curious eyebrow, folding my arms around my brown coat.

"So, where are we?" Lau asks.

"If you don't know, then what was all _that_ about?" Madame Red snaps.

I roll my eyes, wondering how on earth such a space case could become head of the Chinese drug cartel as Sebastian answers the former's question.

"It's a funeral parlor run by an acquaintance of my master's."

I give him a look. "The Undertaker?"

Sebastian smirks at me as he opens the door, and we all enter the cramped, dingy little shop.

"If we're looking for answers, this is the place," Ciel adds.

Looking seems to be a bit on the hard side as the shop is exceptionally dark with all the windows covered in thick blankets and not a single candle lit. Despite the gloom, the vague outlines of still more coffins can still be seen strewn about on the floor.

Out of the darkness, a faint cackling is heard.  
"Heh, heh, welcome! I thought I'd be seeing you before long."

Lau and Madame Red jump, glancing about wildly. I scan the room, but the owner of the voice is nowhere in sight.

To my left, I suddenly hear what sounds like the eerie creak of rusty hinges; I turn in time to see the lid to a large casket leaning against the wall suddenly open, and a pair of leering yellow eyes paired with a wide grin comes into view. Long spindly white fingers reach out towards us.  
"How lovely to see you."

Madame Red screams; Grell shrieks and jumps into my arms

"Do I finally have the pleasure of fitting you for one of me coffins today?" the owner of the voice exclaims gleefully.

"No, that isn't why I'm here," Ciel replies without even batting an eye. As I attempt to pry Grell off me, the owner of the voice steps out of the coffin.

"There's no need to say," he exclaims, pressing a long, black-tipped finger to the young lord's lip. "I'm already aware, very well aware."  
The man speaking is a pale, thin, sallow-faced creature draped all in black with long, ash grey hair tumbling down from under a black top hat; his bangs are so long they conceal his eyes from view; however, the faintest outlines of poorly stitched wounds can still be seen peeking out from the shadow of the brim.

I'm eyeing the man curiously before he turns and looks directly at me. I stiffen in spite of myself, although I can't see his eyes, I can feel them boring into me. My own eyes widen.

Does he…know?

However, he doesn't say anything on the matter as he turns back to Ciel. "My most recent customer was a bit…unusual, shall we say? I helped though; I made her look beautiful again," he exclaims gleefully.

"I would like the details, please," Ciel calmly orders.

"I see now, the funeral parlor is only a cover," Lau deduces. "How much is it for information?"

The Undertaker cackles as he rushes up to Lau. "I have no need of the Queen's coin," he then scrambles back over to Ciel. "Please my lord, give it to me, and I'll tell you anything!" he exclaims, saliva dripping from between his lips.

Ciel doesn't look impressed. Niether am I.

"So, what you think? Opium?" I inquire of Grell in a low whisper. They don't answer, seemingly more content with constricting my arm in a fearful grip. "Oh, would you let go of me!" I exclaim, shaking him off.

"Oh, please, I do not crave such sins of the flesh, my sweet little flower," the Undertaker rounds on my, reaching out with a long hand to catch at the side of my face.

I draw back, repulsed. "Then what is it?"

"I only ask for one thing," Undertaker cries, "The beautiful gift of sweet, true laughter!'

I blink. "Huh?"

"Just one joke and all me information is yours!" Undertaker exclaims gripping his sides and heaving with anticipation.

"Lunatic," Ciel murmurs.

I have to agree with him.

"Leave it to me, my lord," Lau offers before turning to the anxious Undertaker. "It's a classic: on what side does a tiger have the most stripes? On the _out_ side!"

Silence.

"Get it?"

"Ugh," I groan.

"My turn," Madame Red steps forward, "I _live_ for gossip, and this story will make you laugh so hard you'll simply curl up and die," she proclaims flashing one of her sizzling smiles.

Grell gapes at her majesty in awe while I look on in bemusement.

"So, Alice's beau gave her the most extraordinary cock for her birthday," my mistress continues, "It was so big and white with thick veins running down the side and-" SLAP!

The Undertaker slaps a piece of tape over her mouth, cutting her off short.  
"Now, my lord," he turns back to Ciel. "Looks like you're the only one left; I gave you a special discount last time, but I'm not going to do it again."

Ciel looks uncomfortable.

"I don't think he has it in him," I whisper to Grell, who is still recovering from Madame Red's 'joke'. "I've never even seen him _smile_."

"It can't be helped," Sebastian suddenly declares, taking a step forward.

His master looks at him in surprise. "Sebastian?"

"Everyone, please wait outside," the butler advises, slipping on his black riding gloves. "And, no matter what happens, do _not_ attempt to listen to this."

Grell gapes while everyone else looks at him in confusion.

I raise a knowing eyebrow. As Ciel quickly files everyone out of the shop, I linger, grabbing my fellow Demon by the arm.

"Are you really going to do this?"

"If it's laughter he wants, it's laughter he's going to get," Sebastian replies simply.

"But Abby, you might kill him."

"And I might not," Sebastian replies a shrug. "Now, go outside, and don't call me Abby!"

I scowl but eventually relent, exiting the shop to wait with the others, closing the door firmly behind me.

There is a pregnant pause while we all gather on the sidewalk, several feet away from the shop so as to be out of ear shot.

There is silence and then a laugh so harsh and so fierce rips through the air. Startling all the humans and causing Grell to jump on me again.

As quickly as it comes, the laughter abruptly stops, and the door suddenly opens.

"Please, do come back in," Sebastian says with a smile.

I groan, heaving Grell off me and following him back inside. "Well, that was almost disastrous."

"Ye of little faith, darling," Sebastian replies with a wink.

I stare in surprise. "Did you just call me _darling_?"

He blinks. "Uh, no."

Meanwhile, the Undertaker is sprawled across a coffin in the corner, spittle dripping from his mouth with a gigantic grin plastered across his ashen face. He convulses slightly, "Oh my, I do believe I've seen the face of ultimate bliss."

Good Lord.

* * *

Laughter achieved, the Undertaker is now more than willing to tell us everything we want to know as he serves Ciel, Madame Red, and Lau tea (in measuring cups), and we all gather around the center of the shop, the nobles using the spare coffins as chairs.

"An interesting pattern I'm seeing these days," he begins, his voice mixing with the sounds of Lau sloshing his tea bag in a beaker. "I often get customers who are…incomplete." He giggles at the thought.

"Incomplete?" Sebastian asks.

"Yes," the Undertaker sits down beside me, holding a bust of the human body with half the flesh removed, so that the organs can be viewed. He strokes it lovingly, "The uterus is missing, which is quite odd."

"The uterus?" I glance at Grell.

"Yes, the killer makes a huge mess of the body, but that part of it is also cleanly excised."

"The location was public, but not high traffic," I muse, pausing to look about me, "Wouldn't an amateur have a difficult time carrying out such a procedure quickly enough?"

The Undertaker grins at me. "You're a clever bird; that's precisely what I was thinking." He then walks over to Ciel, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "First he slits her throat with a sharp weapon, then he rips into her right here," he places a calloused hand on Ciel's pelvis, "And takes her precious womanly part."

"There will be more slain, I'm certain," I declare. "Sadistic killers like this don't stop until someone makes them."

The Undertaker giggles. "Will you stop him?" he asks the Earl Phantomhive. "Will you sniff him out? Like a good like guard dog?"

"I'm bound by the honor of my family; I eliminate any threat the Queen asks me to," Ciel calmly replies. "By any means I find necessary."

* * *

Afterwards, we take our leave of the Undertaker and all head back to Ciel's carriage. Grell drives while I sit beside them in the passenger's seat. Meanwhile, Ciel rides in the coach with Madame Red, Lau, and Sebastian.

As we drive, I listen to their conversation over the rattling of the wheels on the cobblestones.  
"His information narrows down our suspects," Sebastian is saying. "We must look at those with the necessary skill set, crossing out anyone with an alibi for the nights on which the murders took place. The removal of the organs would suggest some kind of gruesome ritual, so we must also look into anyone involved with secret societies or the occult."

"As if that narrows the field," Madame Red exclaims, "Why even _I_ would have the medical skills necessary for this."

Grell jerks the reins, and the horse veers.

I place my hand over theirs. "Easy."

"Besides, the season is ending soon," our mistress continues, "Any doctors that followed the nobles to the city will be returning to the country, and then what?"

"Then we will have to conclude the investigation quickly," Sebastian coldly replies, and I can almost see his smug smirk.

 _Darling._

My hands curl into fists.

"That's doesn't seem possible," Lau proclaims.

"I should be able to do this much, at least," Sebastian replies simply, "Otherwise, what kind of butler would I be? I'll make up a list of suspects and begin questioning them immediately, my lord."

Grell and I jerk our heads when the door to the carriage is suddenly thrust open. Sebastian hangs his body out of the moving coach.  
"Now, if you'll excuse me," He bows slightly before letting go and vanishing into the shadows, the carriage door slamming shut behind him.

"Show off," I murmur before moving to stand up.

"Where are you going?" Grell demands.

"Just off for a chat," I reply before slipping into the darkness after him.

* * *

"Abby! A word if you don't mind," I call sharply, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him out of the shadows in mid-flight.  
He gasps uncomfortably, half turning around as we reappear in the middle of a street several blocks away.

"Look out!" Sebastian cries, shoving me onto the sidewalk just as a carriage sharply rounds the corner, sloshing mud and melted snow all across the sidewalk. "Great timing," he grumbles, heaving himself to his feet.

"You do recall that those things can't exactly hurt us, right?" I remind him.

"What was it you said about discretion?" Sebastian replies, straightening up and dusting off his coat.

"Fair enough," I admit, jumping up as well.

"Now, what is it?"

"Well, Abby, as one old friend to another, allow me to give you a piece of advice," I offer. "Tell the boy to drop this case."

Sebastian arches an eyebrow. "Oh? And why should I do that?"

"Because, if he keeps treading the path he's on now, he will find nothing but devastation and heartbreak at its end."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"Because I know who the killer is," I reply. "Not as if I'm going to tell you, but keep in mind that if their identity is unveiled by the boy, it will shatter his soul and," I lean in closer to him. "You wouldn't want to spoil your dinner, would you?"

Sebastian grits his teeth. "Why is it any concern of yours whether I get a proper meal or not? As I recall, the Demon Lord starved me out for centuries."

"This isn't about you, Abby," I assert, "This is about the boy."

Sebastian eyes me warily. "What's with this sudden interest in him?"

I hold up a finger, "I have a theory about him, and if I'm right then it will give me the answers I seek and the reason I came here to Terra in the first place. Therefore, it is in my best interest to keep the boy sound and sane for, if I'm right," I trail off, a smile curling on my lips. "Well, you don't really need to know that."

"Ella," Sebastian begins, but I press a black-tipped finger to his lips.

"That's enough. Now, run along and do your duty to your master." I pause, leaning in closer to him, "And if I ever catch you calling me 'darling' again, I'll tear out your entrails and string them up over Tartarus to feed the flames. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Sebastian replies.

"Good." I take a step back. "Ta ta for now," I then vanish back into darkness.

* * *

When I reappear beside Grell on the driver's seat, the carriage is nearing Ciel's winter estate.

"Any progress?" the butler inquires, no longer fazed by my sporadic flitting in and out of view.

"None," I reply, crossing my arms and slumping against the seat with a grunt. "Abby's being as stubborn as ever."

Grell giggles. "It's so cute how you call him that!"

"Grell, I'm not in the mood," I snap.

At that moment, the carriage pulls up in front of the winter estate.

The passengers all file out and wordlessly make their way up the steps, Grell and I close behind them.

Lau opens the door and freezes on the threshold. Madame Red and Grell's mouths fall open in shock to see Sebastian standing in the middle of the front hall, as clean and well-kept as ever with not a speck of mud or windblown hair out of place.

"Welcome back, everyone," he says with a bow. "I have awaited your return. You're afternoon tea is waiting for you in the drawing room," he adds to Ciel, taking his top hat as the boy walks past him into the house, hardly batting an eye.

The other three, however, are utterly dumbstruck.

"Hold on! How are you here?" Madame Red finally exclaims.

"I finished up that little errand, so I made my way home to await you," Sebastian replies simply, barely noting me scowling at him over my mistress's shoulder.

What was it I'd just said about _subtly_? This is really pushing it.

"You mean you made the suspect list already?" Madame Red cries.

"Well, yes." Sebastian holds up a piece of rolled up parchment. "I made a list of names based on what we had discussed, and then I contacted them all, and I asked them the relevant questions."

"Come now, Sebastian," Madame Red scoffs, rolling her eyes in disbelief, "That's impossible, even for you."

My fellow Demon can barely suppress a smug smirk as he unravels the parchment with a flourish, allowing the rather extensive list of names to unfold before our eyes.

"Richard Oswald, doctor to the Duke of Bailey was at _The White Horse Pub_ with friends; he has no connection to secret societies. Madame Hevitt, servant of the Royal London Central Hospital was with tending to a man with a split lip; she has no connection to secret societies. William Summerset, doctor of the Earl of Chambers, was at a party hosted by a Viscount Hogwood," Sebastian recites rapidly from the list.

As he continues to rattle on, Madame Red's eyes get bigger, Ciel's smirk gets wider, and Grell's face gets redder.

And I just get more annoyed.

"From this information," Sebastian winks at me as he lets the paper slide to the floor; I bristle at his cockiness. "We have narrowed down our list to one possible suspect," he concludes.

"Are you certain you're just a butler," Madame Red scoffs. "Not some secret military intelligence officer."

"See, my lady; I am simply one _hell_ of a butler."

* * *

"The Viscount Druitt," Sebastian explains as he adjusts his glasses, the chains glittering from the end of them shining in the moonlight outside the carriage window, "Otherwise known as Aleistor Chambers; he graduated from medical school but has never gone into practice. Lately, he has thrown several parties at his home, but behind the scenes of these same soirees are secret gatherings that only his intimates may attend."

"Which is more than a little bit suspicious," I declare with a sly grin, crossing my arms over my newly tailored suit. I'm sitting inside the booth this time with Grell driving alone.

"I heard that he's into black magic and those occult sorts of things," Madame Red remarks as the carriage passes through the iron wrought gates of a spectral, milk white mansion, all of its windows spilling brilliant gold light out onto the dark lawn like dozens of twinkling stars.

"So, you're suspicion is that he's holding these parties to perform ritualistic sacrifices of the murdered prostitutes," Lau deduces as the coach pulls up in front of the house.

"Tonight's the last party of the season," Ciel continues as a footman steps forward and opens the door. "Which this means this is our last chance."

The footman holds out his hand to Ciel, but he declines it, stepping out into the cool March night, his face burning almost as brightly as the windows of the manor. And I can't really say I blame him: the boy is decked out from head to toe in all manner of frilly pink finery, including a flowing pink ball gown trimmed in black and white lace, long black gloves, a pink and white hat adorned in pink roses and dipped to the side so as to conceal his left eye. He has on a long, grey-blue wig and even a corset to fully encompass the feminine form.  
Although I myself do not necessarily have a gender, I understood the unpleasantness of adjusting to those long skirts and loose hanging accessories.

All for the price of discretion I guess.

Sebastian meanwhile has changed out of his usual crisp black suit to put on a brown over coat and red cravat. I am also in a suit, although it's black, with a red undershirt and black cravat, my hair swept up in a ponytail as well as high heeled boots to give me a bit more height.

"Ciel will be my niece, visiting from the country" Madame Red explains to us as we climb the steps and enter the main hall, "And Sebastian will be Ciel's tutor."

"And just why do I have to act like your niece?" Ciel fumes, his face a scalding crimson.

"Because dear, I always wanted a girl," Madame Red gushes, waving her black lace fan which matches the jewels hanging around her shoulder-exposing crimson gown.

"That's the only reason-?," Ciel starts, but his aunt cuts him off.

"You don't want them knowing you're a Phantomhive, do you? Besides, I heard Lord Druitt has an eye for any pretty little thing in a skirt, and we _do_ want to catch his eye, don't we?"

Ciel's face goes from red to white.

"By any means necessary," Sebastian reminds him. "You do remember saying that, don't you, sir?"

The boy scowls but eventually relents as we enter the ballroom. It's a lavish space: as white as the manor's outside with an elaborate ceiling and many beautiful paintings hanging from the walls.

The retched wealthy of London mill about the polished space, chattering and nibbling away at party favors; the room is a cluster of lace, satin and velvet, packs of dark suits with the occasional colorful flash of a woman's dress, each one more elaborate than the last.

Ciel makes his way through the crowd, Sebastian and I close behind.

"First thing's first, we need to locate this murderous Viscount," I declare.

"At least Elizabeth isn't here to see me like this," Ciel mumbles, evidently still hung up on pink frills.

I cringe at the name, a pink of my own coming to mind.

"Oh, that dress is so adorable!" a very familiar, sing song voice chirps from a few feet away.

We all freeze and whip around to see Elizabeth chatting with two woman by the punch bowl, dressed in the same deep red gown she'd worn to our own party a few months prior.

"I adore all the dresses here!" she continues, twirling around, "They're lovely."

Ciel's face is ashen, even Sebastian looks surprised.

I can't help but start laughing.

"Sir," Sebastian shoots me a look. "I mean, mistress, please calm down."

Ciel doesn't respond; he seems to be frozen.

I tilt my head to the side, watching him curiously.

"Let's move quickly," Sebastian urges, taking his arm and trying to tug him along.

"Ooh! You in the pink, you're dress is just gorgeous!"

"Too late," I remark.

"Not helping, Ella," Sebastian snaps at me as Elizabeth starts towards us. "Moving this way now." The butler continues, tugging his master behind the gigantic four teared cake sitting on a round table in the corner. I follow, crouching down beside them.

"Oh? Where'd she go?" Elizabeth wonders aloud as she wanders about where we'd just been.

"This isn't good," Sebastian whispers as she moves on. "I didn't expect her here."

"If someone were to see the head of my family dressed this way…" Ciel hisses frantically.

"The Phantomhive name would be ruined for generations," I exclaim with a wicked grin.

The boy cringes. "Let's go and join Madame Red," he urges.

It doesn't take us long to find her.

My mistress laughs loudly. "Oh, you are such a dear!" she exclaims to one of the young men fawning over her as she sits astride a comfy chair, Grell and Lau both standing on either side with large fans.

"Looks like she's having a grand old time," her nephew grumbles.

From behind him, a gasp. "There!"

Ciel barely turns to see Lizzy rushing towards him before Sebastian snatches his hand and pulls her along. "Come this way, my young mistress!"

"You, man," I call, lowering my voice to 'boy' as I address one of the wait staff. "That lady over there requires a lemonade." I gesture to Lizzy as she comes up behind me before rushing off after Sebastian and Ciel.

The man steps up to the young noblewoman, holding out a champagne glass to her.

Threat momentarily averted, I move to join Sebastian and Ciel on the balcony.

"Why do these things always happen to me?" Ciel groans once we'd manage to regain our bearings.

"Well, you did make a Contract with a demon," I remind him.

"Lord Druitt looks as gorgeous as ever tonight!" a young woman in a mint green dress exclaims loudly, making us all perk up. "His hair shines like the sun."

Peering back inside, I catch sight of a handsome young man with a slender, feminine face framed by silky, platinum blonde hair. He is dressed in pure white with a red brooch at his throat that contrasts with his deep sapphire eyes.

"There's the Viscount Druitt," I declare.

"Let's go," Ciel declares, stepping back into ball room.

At that moment, the band picks up as the violins start strumming a waltz; immediately, most of the crowd rush the dance floor, couple up and begin twirling about.

Ciel grits his teeth. "Damn, I will never get close to him."

"We have no choice," Sebastian declares. "We will have to dance our way over to the Viscount." With that, he takes Ciel's hand once more and tugs him onto the dance floor.

"You really expect me to dance in public, and with _you_ ," his master protests.

"You already know, young master that I am one hell of a dancer, "Sebastian exclaims smugly, "Besides, as your tutor, priority allows me to dance with you at a public function such as this one."

Ciel grimaces. "Do I have to?"

Sebastian simply smiles. "Shall we dance now, young mistress?" Before the boy can protest any further, Sebastian sweeps him up into the music and the rhythm of the song, twirling and spinning the boy in the same flurry of motion as all the others surrounding them.

Ignoring a pack of girls giggling as they eye me with flushed, eager expressions, I cross my arms and lean against a pillar.

I watch Sebastian drag Ciel along, the effect would have been comical had I not caught Sebastian winking at him again.

I dig my finger nails into my sleeve. The nerve of that insolent, traitorous wretch, first 'darling' and now this! He has clearly been here in Terrus far too long!

My eyes darken as I watch the butler dance. "I think I need to teach him a lesson."

"God, this party is so boring; I could _die_ "

I turn my head to see Grell standing beside me, his flushed face looking to be on the verge of a temper tantrum.

I regard them coldly. "You're already dead, and you have no one to blame for that but yourself."

Grell places a hand over his heart. "Oh, Elly, always so cruel," they exclaim dramatically.

I roll my eyes. "Look, if it bothers you so much, why don't you go have some of your 'fun'?"

Grell glares at me. "You know what? Maybe I will." With that, they briskly turn on their heel and stalk off, vanishing into the crowd.

I don't dwell on them long as I turn back to the young lord and his butler.

After a time, Ciel becomes rather out of breath and needs to stop to bend over and gasp heavily.

Sebastian shakes his head. "How can you become exhausted so easily, my lady?"

"It's probably this damn corset," Ciel growls in response.

At that moment, I spy the Viscount striding over to them. He claps fondly, a silky smile on his lips as he eyes Ciel. I can see the lust burning in him. "You're dancing is exquisite, like a lovely little robin."

"My lady, allow me to fetch you something to drink," Sebastian announces, bowing to Ciel before striding off. I linger on Ciel for a mere moment longer as he begins chatting quietly with the young Viscount before I follow Sebastian over to where another waiter is serving drinks.

"Well?" I ask.

Sebastian jumps, nearly dropping the glass.  
"Ella!" he exclaims, spinning around. "Don't do that!"

I grin. "I was always the only one to be able to get the drop on you."

Sebastian glares at me. "Well, in answer to your question the young lord has the Viscount hook, line, and sinker. I believe we shall have him before the night is out."

"Always so confident," I declare, crossing my arms.

Sebastian winks me again. "Always so cold. Let's celebrate with a dance," he exclaims, taking my gloved hand in his own.

"Abby!" I hiss, yanking my hand away and glancing around to make sure no one saw that. "I'm a _man,_ remember?"

Sebastian blinks before clearing his throat. "Quite...Sorry."

I sigh, glancing back across the dance floor to see that Ciel is stilling talking with the Viscount. However, I also spy young Lizzy watching them from only a few feet away, eyes shining with eagerness.

"She'll be able to go over to them as soon as the dance is over," I muse aloud. "Once that happens, they'll be nowhere for Ciel to go."

"Indeed, and we can't blow his chance with the Viscount; this is our only opportunity," my fellow Demon agrees.

I cast him a sideways glance. "Got a plan?"

Sebastian grins. "As a matter of fact, yes. Remember Vienna?"

My own expression brightens. "Abby, at times you are rather brilliant."

The violinists strum their very last cord, and a round of applause rises up from the guests just as young Lizzy gathers up her skirts and starts toward Ciel and the Viscount.

She barely makes it halfway across the dance floor when BANG!

Sebastian and I drop down in front of her, both crouched on either side of a massive cabinet.

The room goes silent as everyone gapes at the display, a low murmur soon moves throughout the room as everyone wonders what could be going on.

Sebastian and I each rise to our feet, both of us having put on matching white and red masks so as not to be recognized.

"Ladies and gentleman, if everyone would please gather 'round, this evening's magic show will now begin!" Sebastian announces to the crowd.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the Viscount ushering Ciel through a curtain in the back of the room.

"A normal cabinet," I add, stepping forward. "Once I've climbed inside, my partner will close it tightly shut and bind it with these chains, then he'll simply run it through with these swords.

As I speak, Sebastian holds a series of gleaming silver swords aloft.

Several of the woman gasp.

"I shall emerge perfectly unharmed," I reassure them before stepping into the cabinet.

"This is no mere trick or illusion," Sebastian adds. "Prepare for a show of true magic."

I then step backwards into the small space and close the door behind me. From inside the cramped, dark cabinet, I hear the chains rattle as they're looped around the base.

"Are you ready, Ella?" I hear Sebastian whisper.

I snort. "Are you?"

SLAM!

A shine of metal gleams above my head as Sebastian pierces the top of the cabinet up to the hilt with the sword.

I quickly faze out, coating myself in shadows so as to guard my very mortal flesh.

Abaddon moves like lightly, blade after blade puncturing through the wood, peppering the tiny space with the sharp swords.

Meanwhile, I crouch in the darkness and wait.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Sebastian runs out of swords.

The room is deadly silent as I shift back into the physical world, now standing in what probably looks like a giant pin cushion.

I close my eyes and will the chains to break before passing through any potentially harmful blades and stepping back out into the light of the party to meet the guests' astonished applause.

Sebastian and I raise our arms in thanks before bowing as one.

"Sebastian, Ella," Madame Red gushes. "That was incredible."

"Indeed," Lau agrees. "For a moment there, I thought you'd killed her."

"That actually hurt more than expected," I hiss, kicking Sebastian in the shin. "I didn't think you'd aim straight for my head."

"Anyone else would have died," Sebastian exclaims, putting an arm around my waist.

I shake him off, the anger resurfacing.

"So, what's the trick to it anyway?" Lau inquires.

My expression softens once more. "Like we said: there are no tricks or illusions, just magic."

"Brilliant as always, Ella. Simply brilliant," Sebastian declares.

I turn back to him, my face darkening. "Sebastian, might I have a word?"

"Of course."

We then break away from Lau, Madame Red, and the rest of the guests, moving back out onto the balcony.

The cool darkness cascades pleasantly across my face, washing away the exhilarating heat of our little stunt.

"Ella-" Sebastian begins, but I raise a hand to silence him.

"Roof. Now."

Without another word, we both vanish into the shadows and reappear on the top of the manor.

As soon as we've rematerialized, before Sebastian can utter another word, I turn and rush him, taking him completely off guard.

The other Demon cries out as I slam my hand into his chest, knocking him flat on his back.

I crouch down beside him, removing my left glove and pressing a black-tipped finger to his forehead. Although the pressure from the single digit might appear miniscule, I am far stronger than I appear in this form, and Sebastian is practically crushed under the force.

"You know, Abby, if you were smart, you would have acted a bit more grateful," I declare, "I do believe I've been a bit too generous as of late." As I speak, I dig my finger into Sebastian's head.

His eyes grow wide, and he gasps in pain as I drill my nail into his brow. "Also," I continue. "It seems to me that four hundred years of pain and exile in Terrus has done nothing to quell your insolence, your disrespect, or your instigative nature of _humiliating_ me." I punctuate each accusation with pressing my finger still deeper into Sebastian's milk-white skin.

The butler opens his mouth and lets out a guttural yell that is soon swallowed by the night. Nobody below can hear him over the sound of the party.

"Honestly, what did you think you were playing at? You do know who I am after all, and after all our history together, I would have taken you to behave more prudently. But I suppose Terrus has made you soft." My eyes narrow. "I should have killed you the moment I saw you."

"Ella...!" Sebastian gasp, straining under the build-up against his skull, "...Don't"

I scowl. "Oh, only now when you stare into the eyes of death do you show any respect." I scoff, "Typical."

"Ella, you wouldn't…I know you wouldn't."

"Just shut up!" I hiss. "You're only digging your grave deeper. The Demon Lord does not forgive, you know that."

Sebastian doesn't respond to this.

I look down at him, completely helpless beneath me. His red eyes burning into my yellow ones as a single trickle of blood runs down from the point my finger is pressed to.

"Why?" I whisper. "Why did you have to do it? Why couldn't you have just submitted?"

"It isn't in my nature to submit," Sebastian replies quietly. "I am, after all, a Demon of Hell."

I look down at him, turning his words over in my mind; he watches me intently with that too familiar crimson gaze.

I feel my resolve shiver within me. I grit my teeth, pressing my finger still deeper.

Sebastian cries out again.

I squeeze my eyes shut. _Do it! You should have killed him four hundred years ago!_

Suddenly, it falls silent.

My eyes snap open as a dense darkness descends all around us. I look down to see Sebastian's red eyes consumed in a pink-purple light.

"Apologies," he leers up at me, "But I've been summoned."

With that, he vanishes.

"Damn it!" I cry, jumping to my feet and glancing around me. "That damned Contracted fuck!"

I cannot quell the vulgar torrent of sound as I curse in every language formed at the Tower of Babel.

Eventually, I calm down enough that I'm able to momentarily dispel my rising frustration with the Demon known as Abbadon. Not just with him, but with myself.

I have always been so steadfast, so certain in my actions.

So why? What is it that's keeping me from killing him?

I eventually cease my pondering and focus my attention on the matter at hand.

Sebastian had been summoned through his Contract, which can only mean one thing:  
"Ciel is in trouble."

With that, I turn on the spot and vanish.

* * *

When I reappear, I'm standing in the middle of a dark auction hall. They room is draped in deep red curtains and tables and chairs are scattered all about a large stage lit by a single spotlight. The occupants of said furniture are strewn about as well, most unconscious, a few dead, all of them with black veils of fabric draped over their eyes.

Amongst the clutter, I spy the Viscount in a crumbled heap with the same black sash stretched over his eyes.

 _Concealed identities…Underground._

I then spy Ciel crouched in a gigantic iron bird cage, his hands bound with thick rope.

 _And a boy in a cage._

"Human trafficking," I declare.

"I believe so," Sebastian agrees, his calm tone in no way reflecting our encounter on the roof mere moments ago as he strides over to Ciel and kneels before him. Bending the bars open as easily as though they were rubber, he scoops up the boy and quickly removes his bonds.

I watch them, curiosity burning in me and I eventually can't help but blurt out.  
"Tell me. Why are you Contracted?"

Ciel looks at me, perplexed by my bluntness.

"You're parents died, yes?" I continue. "In a fire, is it something to do with that?"

Ciel's gaze turns murderous. "How dare you speak in such a manner to your authorities?!"

I can't help but smile. "My dear Ciel, save for a select few, I _am_ authority."

"The young lord's parents were indeed killed in a fire," Sebastian explains, "And he formed a Contract with me in order to sniff out the person responsible.

"Sebastian!" Ciel cries pointedly.

"Oh, I see." My smile returns. "You do realize, Ciel Phantomhive, that when and if Sebastian's end of that Contract is fulfilled, you will then become his food, and he will feast upon your soul."

I'm surprised when I don't see Ciel's face immediately fill with fear. Some Demons don't tell their victims the true extent of their deal, at least not at first, and I myself hardly ever reveal the fine print in a first meeting.

However, Ciel hardly seems surprised. "I am well aware," he declares, slowly reaching up and lifting his hat from his head to once more reveal the purple mark of the inverted pentacle burned into his left eye.

"The predator and prey are joined by a mark; the more visible the mark, the stronger the bond," he almost recites, "The predator serves out his duty to his new Contracted until their bargain is fulfilled and in return the prey can never escape."

I can't hide my surprise. "What are you, Ciel Phantomhive?"

The boy scoffs. "I could ask the same of you."

I smile, shaking my head. "If you knew who I am, you might very well go mad with fear."

"Somehow, I doubt that," the boy replies.

Somehow I do too.

But I still do not relent.

"Well, I guess that solves the Jack the Ripper case," I remark, noting the unconscious Viscount. "That was easier than I'd expected."

"I'm sure Scotland Yard will be pleased," Sebastian adds before gathering up Ciel in his arms. "We should take our leave; I'm sure you don't want them to see you like this either."

Before the young lord can protest, Sebastian rushes forward and leaps out the window, vanishing into the night.

Silently, I walk over to the open window, watching the curtains flutter lazily in the late winter breeze. I cross my arms and watch boy and butler leap through the darkness.

 _Abby…_

* * *

A/N: Ella/Seb interactions are definitely my favorite parts of writing these chapters. I hope you all enjoy them too. I think it's safe to say that Sebby's met his match, or perhaps Ella has met hers.

Fun Fact:  
Desdemona (Ella's last name) means 'ill-fated one'


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